Flight 642
by seezee
Summary: Auggie's mother guilts him into going home for Thankgsgiving. There's adventure, family communication and deepening friendship between Auggie and Annie.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first Fan Fiction offering. With the long hiatus for Covert Affairs, I started wondering this fall what Auggie and Annie would be doing with the holidays coming up. We know quite a bit about Annie's family, but very little about Auggie's. I'd like to introduce you to my version of the Andersons. I own nothing except my imagination and admiration for the dramatic talents of Chris Gorham and Piper Perabo who bring these characters to life.

**Flight 642 - Chapter One - Amanda and Frederick**

Amanda Anderson sighed as she surveyed the storeroom tucked under the foyer in her family's home. Thanksgiving was less than a week away, and in addition to the usual family traditions and meal planning, she was organizing the Christmas decorations for the newest Anderson tradition. As the grandchildren had grown, the new family tradition included decorating Grandma and Grandpa's house after dinner for the Christmas season.

The spacious two-story grey brick home sat on a corner near the Glencoe Country Club where the five Anderson sons caddied on the golf course and waited tables in the club house dining room through their high school and college years … not that the boys "had" to work – their parents felt that they needed to learn to appreciate how to earn a living and respect the importance of a strong work ethic.

Amanda and Frederick Anderson raised their sons with high expectations, discipline and a lot of love. Amanda and Fred met when they were students at Northwestern. She was studying literature and drama. Fred was a fist-year law student and Amanda was in her second year of undergraduate studies.

Fred was (and continues to be) a pragmatic realist. A student of the facts, he was a bottom-line kind of young man who also had the kind of legal mind that allowed him to find solutions to obscure quandaries in the corporate legal maze. He had earned his undergraduate degree at Northwestern with scholarships and some part-time work. Fred's plans had always been to go to law school, so he took a year off to work in a law office, make money for school and to make sure the law was where he wanted to spend his career. Fred's parents were educators, so he had a great love of learning, but not a lot of extra cash.

Amanda's family helped to establish the Glencoe Village, the exclusive lake shore suburb north of Chicago. Her family epitomized old money and the self confidence and dignity that comes from growing up in that world. She was a warm hearted idealist who carried with her the lessons from her youth:

Set a good example for others.

You are fortunate in your circumstance, but never feel that you are ever any better than anyone else.

You have a responsibility to help others.

And so … the idealist and pragmatist began to test the theory of opposites attracting. Their university friendship developed into a lasting love that endured through Fred's being drafted into the Army after law school, his early years in the law firm and the roller coaster life they led together raising "the team."

"The Team" as in basketball … that's what Amanda called her brood of rambunctious boys beginning December 14, 1976, the day she brought August Philip Anderson home and placed him in the basinet that had cradled his four older brothers over the past eight years.

Amanda slid a decoration-filled carton across the floor, sighed and leaned against the door frame. "Concentrate, focus," she thought to herself. "Hold yourself together and this will be the best holiday season the Andersons have had since 2005 when the entire family was together, happy and whole."

"What a blessing our lives were then," Amanda whispered to herself. "And we didn't even take time to realize it. Well, it's 2010, and the Andersons have a new normal. We will be just as happy. I will make this work."

"Oh, come on Mom … you want me to fly out to Glencoe for Thanksgiving? That means flying out Wednesday afternoon and coming back to DC on Friday … it'll be a travel nightmare for me."

"We both know you are not afraid of the devil himself," Amanda said sternly in her best Mom Voice. "It's time you stop hiding behind your bank of computers and rejoin our family and the rest of the world outside of that protected enclave of your office."

Not even considering taking no for an answer, Amanda said, "I've already booked your flight and have you in First Class both ways. They are direct flights from Reagan to O'Hare, so there's no concern about missing a connection and having to spend the night in Cleveland," she teased.

Amanda prevailed. She wore him down.

"Ok, Mom, email me the ticket information," Auggie huffed.

'It's going to be a magnificent holiday, Auggie. Everything will be perfectly fine, son … you'll see."

"Mom, I don't get to see anything anymore." The split second the last syllable rolled off his tongue, Auggie regretted his verbal tantrum. Taking a deep breath, he apologized, "Mom, I'm sorry. That was out of line … even for me."

"Apology accepted. I'll see you at O'Hare the night before Thanksgiving. No excuses."

"Ok. I'm looking forward to it," Auggie said with a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

"Amanda Anderson is probably the most tenacious person in my life" Auggie thought. A smile broke out as he thought about Annie and realized she is just as tenacious as his mother. "Note to self. Never allow those two to inhabit my universe together," he laughed to himself. "I'd never have a chance."

"Wait," Auggie told himself, "you can't have this conversation with yourself. Amanda Anderson and Annie Walker ever meeting is an unrealistic fantasy. Control yourself, Anderson.

"What have I just done?" Auggie asked himself aloud. "It's the Friday before Thanksgiving, and I just told my mother I'd go home without clearing it with Joan." Auggie turned down the volume on the Mingus he'd been enjoying and speed dialed Joan, who answered on the second ring. "Hello, Auggie. What's the problem?" (Auggie never called Joan at home unless there was a problem.)

"Not too big of a problem, I hope … just a personal situation."

"Oh, and that would be?"

"It seems my mother has taken it upon herself to purchase tickets for me to fly home for Thanksgiving. I'd be leaving on Wednesday afternoon, but I can be back in the office late Friday afternoon."

"Well, since you haven't taken a holiday off since you came back to take over Tech Ops, I think it's time for you to spend a holiday with your family. Stu's family is all in the DC area, so I'm sure he won't mind sitting in for you if something comes up while you're in Illinois with your family," Joan said. She was trying to be reassuring and level, not wanting to betray how pleased she was that Auggie was taking a step to reconnect with his family.

Shifting back into DPD Director mode Joan said, "Just be sure to take your encrypted phone with you so we can have secure conversations, if something comes up."

Joan returned to the family room. Arthur looked up from the NCIS rerun he was watching and asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, Auggie's mother staged some sort of coup, and he's finally agreed to go home to Illinois for a holiday."

"It's about time." Arthur said under his breath. "He needs to get reacquainted with the life he lived before the explosion. He's one of the best we have, but that doesn't mean he's not dealing with more issues than the New York Times."

Joan laughed and snuggled down on the sofa next to Arthur. "It's not like _we_ couldn't be the CIA poster children for people with issues."

Across town, Auggie sat on his sofa alone in his dark apartment with the sounds of Mingus gracing his sound system. Holding his head in his hands, he kept saying to himself, "Oh, man what the hell did I just agree to?"


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the story alerts and positive comments. Enjoy Chapter 2 and remember I own nothing but my imagination and admiration for those behind the scenes and in front of the camera who bring Covert Affairs to life.

**Flight 642- Chapter 2 - Holiday Plans**

Annie Walker didn't need to check into the office until later in the afternoon on Saturday, so she'd promised Danielle that she would help with the shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. Michael was available to take over parenting duties, so the sisters could organize the annual Thanksgiving Extravaganza. Col. and Mrs. Walker weren't coming up from Florida this year, having decided instead to spend some extra time with the grandchildren during the Christmas holiday. But there would still be plenty of guests seated around the dining room table for another of Danielle's gourmet holiday meals.

"List – check; keys – check; debit card – check. Let's hit the road," Danielle called to Annie.

With the early start, the store wasn't too crowded. The sisters maneuvered the aisles with Annie pushing the cart, and Danielle studying each purchase before thoughtfully placing it in the cart. Annie could see why Danielle was becoming a successful caterer. She paid attention to every little detail, whether preparing a meal for her family or a client.

Watching Danielle shop, Annie smiled when she realized they are more alike that she would like to admit. After all, the one thing (besides Auggie in her ear on a mission) that keeps her alive is her ability to pay attention to details and stay hyper aware of her surroundings.

"Hey, Annie," Danielle yelled across the lettuce display, "Why don't you invite your friend, Auggie, from the Smithsonian to have dinner with us on Thursday. Didn't you say all of his family is out in Illinois?"

"Uhhhhh, I think he already has plans, Danielle. I overheard him visiting with someone in the office earlier in the week," Annie said lightly. Annie had overheard conversations last week …. About how Auggie always offered to man the Tech Ops Center on holidays. He would not allow any of the people in his area to split the time with him and have to leave their families for any holiday.

The Tech Ops crew had given up arguing with him about it. They accepted that's the way he wanted to run his area.

As Auggie woke up Saturday morning, the reality of what he had agreed to hit him … hard. He was stuck. "I actually agreed to go home for a holiday," he groaned out loud. Letting out another frustrated groan, he reached for the extra pillow on the bed and pulled it over his head.

"Anderson get a grip on yourself. You've conquered other challenges over the past three years. You will not let a Thanksgiving trip to Glencoe defeat you. You learned to read Braille. You can navigate a computer screen as well if not better than someone with 20/20 vision. You practically think in binary code. Every day you help keep CIA officers across the globe safe. You will go home and have a decent, if not good, time. You will not make your mother cry. You will interact with your father and brothers. You will take part in family conversations for the 41 hours you have to spend in Glencoe."

Auggie sat on the side of the bed … thinking. "This is ridiculous," he thought. "I haven't had to give myself a pep talk like this since I started rehab."

The chiming, vibrating cell phone on the bedside table interrupted his thoughts. Auggie slid his fingers across the table top and picked up the phone. "Anderson."

"Hey, Auggie," Annie greeted him. "You going into the office this afternoon? I'm headed that way, and I can swing by to pick you up, if you want. Misery loves company."

Annie knew the CIA shuttle service was on a skeleton crew over the weekend, and cab service was more than a little erratic. Her offer of a ride helped Auggie, but was selfish, too, because Annie enjoyed the one-on-one time she spent with him. "I promised my nieces I'd have lunch with them today. How about I swing by your place around 1:30?"

"Works for me," he said as he ended the call. He realized he was smiling and the tension in his neck and shoulders was relaxing just at the thought of spending the afternoon with Annie. Admittedly, it was at the office; but on a weekend afternoon the atmosphere was relaxed.

"Auggie seems a little off today." Annie thought to herself. "Maybe he just had a little too much fun last night."

"Show time," Auggie said to himself as he started to think about what he needed to do to get ready for the trip. After a quick shower, he dressed in an office causal sweater and slacks and checked the time after clasping on his Braille watch. Closing the watch face, he planned "fix coffee, start laundry, cook breakfast, dry laundry …. That's doable by 1:30."

Between his training at The Farm, Special Ops and the rehab center, Auggie planned his movements each day as if he were organizing the most sensitive operation in the Middle East. While his coffee brewed, Auggie made his way to the laundry room with his basket loaded with towels, clothes and detergent. The basket was round and deep, so he could carry it easily with one arm and have one hand free to navigate with his cane. Just as the instructors had advised him, the cane had become his best friend; but it was still his worst enemy.

He could make it to the laundry room just fine, thank you, without the long white stick; but he had learned the hard way that public laundry facilities in apartment buildings are not necessarily friendly to a blind resident. His friend helped to keep him safe and made it possible for him to travel independently. His enemy drew attention to him and magnified his disability, he felt.

Auggie was relieved to enter a quiet laundry room. With a little luck, there would be no damp clothes in any of the washers, and he could get both loads of laundry washed and dried at the same time. Two of the three washers were clear and he loaded his towels into one and tees, shorts and sweats into the other.

As he started the washers, Auggie heard footsteps coming down the hall. "Hi, Auggie," Jennifer Williams said with a Saturday morning hoarseness to her voice that gave up her hangover. Auggie smiled and nodded in the direction of her voice. "Well, good morning Jen. How was the party last night?"

"Okay. I stayed longer than I'd planned. The people weren't quite as interesting as I'd expected," Jen answered while rubbing her left temple. "Wait. How'd you know I was at a party last night?"

"Your gravelly voice gave you up," he laughed. "And, you were walking gingerly like if you stepped too hard you'd make your head hurt worse."

Jen shook her aching head and mumbled, "You are a remarkable person, Auggie Anderson. How do you do that?"

"Just observant, I guess," he said as he picked up his detergent bottle and unfolded his cane to head back upstairs to fix some breakfast. "Hydrate yourself really well and get some caffeine in you. You'll feel better in a couple of hours."

As he ascended the steps, Auggie thought to himself, "Remarkable, huh. If anyone knew how hard it is to be remarkable, much less barely normal."

"Why do you have to go to the office today?" Danni asked Annie. "I thought we could hang out and watch a movie. "True Lies" is on and you've always loved it. What's so important at a museum that you have to work on Saturday afternoon?"

"I just don't want to get behind on things with the holiday weekend coming up, and I may have to make a trip overseas after Thanksgiving," Annie answered, laying down her cover story for an upcoming operation in Norway.

* * *

Join me for Chapter 3, when Annie and Auggie spend Saturday afternoon together at the office. Chapter 2 is a little short, but it's where the story breaks naturally.


	3. Chapter 3

Annie and Auggie are headed to the office to get some work done ahead of the Thanksgiving holiday and Annie's leaving for an overseas operation next weekend. Auggie wants to talk, but can't quite get to the place where he can open up … even with Annie. I don't own anything connected to Covert Affairs. Hope you enjoy.

**Flight 642 - Chapter 3 - Saturday at the Office**

Strains of trumpet, bass and piano jazz interpretation wafted through Auggie's apartment as he finished folding laundry on his bed and putting it away neatly …. Everything in its place. Auggie remembered the advice of his counselors about the key to avoiding chaos is to keep everything in its place.

"Chaos," he thought. "Everything in my life _is_ chaos. Tash, Liza, Annie, and now Thanksgiving in Illinois." His ringing phone brought him back to reality. "Yeah …"

"Hey, Auggie, I've had to park at the south end of your block. What's going on today? Usually, there are plenty of places closer to your building."

"Don't know. But you hang tight, and I'll come to you."

Annie had splurged on one thing when she bought her car. She'd gone to a sound specialist and installed a top-of-the line sound system. Today was the perfect day to be enjoying a private concert from her Mingus playlist.

It had turned into a sunny 63 degree afternoon, and her little red car had quickly warmed up. Annie cracked the windows to get some fresh air when she caught sight of a casually dressed, strikingly handsome dark-haired man sauntering down the street. Auggie carried himself with such confidence and masculine elegance that the white cane sweeping in front of him was barely noticeable. What Annie did notice were the two young women who slowed down to admire him.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who appreciates this fine man," Annie chuckled to herself.

Annie was about to get out of the car to meet up with Auggie and walk with him back to the car when she thought "I have a better idea." She cranked up the volume on her sound system and rolled down the car windows. The soft fall breezes swept the beat of Mingus across the sidewalk and she could see the wide smile spread across Auggie's face as he realized she was sending him a message. Auggie stopped, tilted his head slightly to listen, took a few more steps and turned right heading toward Annie's car. He slowly swept his cane across his path hoping she had not parked beside one of the trees that lined his street.

The music grew louder and clearer, so he knew he was on the right track. When he felt the curb drop off with his cane, he stopped and carefully approached the car with the back of his hand extended. He felt the door handle and drew his hand up to the open window. Curling his fingers over the bottom of the window opening, he lowered his head, smiled and exclaimed, "Miss Walker, fancy meeting you here this beautiful afternoon."

Annie couldn't contain herself any longer and burst into a hearty laugh. Auggie opened the door, folded up his cane and easing into the seat said, "Let's go do some work for the greater good."

Annie turned down the volume, and chatted about her morning with Danni, the elaborate Thanksgiving dinner plans and her parents' plans for the holidays.

"Oh," Annie apologized. "I'm really being a Chatty Cathie. I haven't let you get a word in edgewise. How's your day going? Anything exciting happening in Auggieville?"

"Not too much," he said with a hint of a plaintive tone in his voice.

"Whoa, from your tone, there's more than 'not too much happening.' What gives, anyway?"

"Humm, let me get my own brain wrapped around it before I talk about it, okay? When we finish at the office, how about we go to that Italian restaurant you say you like so well? We can talk then."

After a few seconds of silence, Auggie said, "I can hear you frowning again Annie Walker. You have the loudest frowns of anyone I know."

For that last remark, Annie gave him a quick, light punch in the arm and laughed.

* * *

The afternoon in the office flew by as if time were compressed.

Annie was researching some of the local customs for next week's op to Alta, Norway, the City of the Northern Light. The mission was to be a simple one, meet a Russian dissident at Haldde, the oldest permanent Northern Lights observatory in the world. He would pass off to Annie the intel he'd researched on a terrorist cell that is developing in the countryside west of Moscow.

According to the protocol in the files she had received from Joan, Annie would fly out of Dulles on Sunday afternoon as Asta Wilhelmsen.

As Auggie reviewed his files on the ops he'd be following after the holiday, he stopped and smiled as his fingers read the Braille cover sheet about Annie's op to Norway. Did Joan realize that one of the meanings for the Norwegian name Asta is "love," or was it a pure coincidence and a name pulled out of a hat by the mission's prep crew. "It's certainly appropriate," Auggie thought to himself.

Annie reviewed the protocol files for the mission. She was not traveling as a Smithsonian employee under her own name for this trip. She was Asta Wilhelmsen, the granddaughter of Norwegian immigrants to the U.S. in the early 20th Century, and she was taking a semester's sabbatical from her university position in linguistics to do some genealogy research as well as language and dialect study in Norway.

"It all looks straightforward," Annie thought. "Sure hope it stays that way. I wonder why they chose Asta as my cover name. The "love" connection made her give it more than a passing thought.

When she glanced over to Auggie's office and noticed him smiling while he read the Braille files spread out on his desk, she wondered if he had come across her cover name and knew its meaning.

Auggie wasn't wearing his headphones, but he was so deep in thought pouring over the files, he didn't indicate he'd heard her approaching. The soft leather slides she slipped into with her casual slacks and shirt for the day barely made any noise when she walked, and she hadn't taken time for her usual spritz of Jo Malone. After standing quietly for about 30 seconds and not wanting to startle Auggie, she cleared her throat.

Auggie turned his head in the direction of her voice. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not too long. It usually doesn't take you that long to sense someone is in your office. What's up with you?"

Auggie shrugged as he closed the file. "Are you ready to have some great pasta and good company for dinner?"

"Sure. But I have a question first. You are going to be my tech handler on this mission to Norway, aren't you? After our last experience with the Russians, I'll just feel more confident if you're in my ear and on my side."

"You know I'll be there for you. I'll be back in plenty of time to be in your ear when you land in Norway."

"Be back! Auggie where the devil are you going? I thought you always worked on Thanksgiving."

"Damn it" Auggie thought to himself. "How'd she do that to me? How'd she trick that intel out of me? I'm the highly-trained officer with 18 months of special ops training under my belt and this newbie made me slip up."

"Like I said, we can talk about it over dinner," Auggie sighed.

Annie went to clear off her desk and lock up the files. She was glad that Jai hadn't stopped by the office. That might have meant inviting him to the Italian supper, and Annie wanted to have time alone with Auggie to talk. He rarely opened up with her about anything personal, and she felt that the time was right tonight to find out more about what makes this man tick. If Jai were here, the evening would turn into a testosterone fest of banter with Annie becoming the referee.

Auggie was ready to leave, too, so Annie met him coming toward her desk. It was a path so well defined in his mind that he could visualize the new DPD Center and Annie's surroundings down to the last pencil holder and heart-shaped picture frame holding the most recent photo of her nieces.

The only thing he has trouble visualizing is Annie. He knows that verbal descriptions don't do her justice. He's never really touched her face except for an occasional affectionate cheek pat during some one-on-one fight training. He knows she's an amazing person inside and out, but he doesn't have a visual reference. Asking someone to touch their face just seemed too personal, and August Anderson is such a private person himself that he would not cross that personal line with someone he respects as much as Annie.

"Hey there, Mr. Anderson, do you think you can buy a starving CIA officer some dinner?" Annie called playfully as she approached. Auggie smiled and offered his elbow in a gallant show of chivalry. He could be quite the show-off when the circumstances were right. His actions reminded her of the first day they met and he so put her at ease and made her feel welcome by escorting her to Allen's Tavern for drinks.

Annie slipped her arm through his elbow and leaned her head into his shoulder as they made their way out to the main corridor. As they entered the hallway, Annie released her hold on Auggie's arm and he lightly held her elbow giving it a little squeeze.

"What's this restaurant you're always talking about?" Auggie asked.

"It's Dolce Vita, and it's not too far from the office. I don't know if they have Braille menus, but if they don't, I promise that I'll read very quietly."

"I appreciate that," Auggie whispered. "You handle public situations so well. That's why I enjoy going places with you."

"I always have fun with you, too."

* * *

Finally ... they've finished at the office and are going for a nice dinner and chat. Join me later for Chapter 4, Saturday Night Dinner. Is Auggie ever going to open up to Annie about going to Glencoe and his apprehensions?


	4. Chapter 4

Will a nice dinner, a bottle of wine and a lovely companion be enough for Auggie to relax and share with Annie what's on his mind? Well, it's time to find out. Just a reminder … I don't own anything except my imagination. Happy New Year!

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 4 - Saturday Night Dinner**

The hostess led the couple toward a corner table. As they approached the table, Auggie leaned down to Annie's ear to whisper, "When we get to the table, put my hand on the back of the chair where you want to sit … preferably facing the dining room. I'll pull out the chair for you and then seat myself."

Annie looked up into his face, nodded and then remembered to answer "Ok. Why facing the dining room? "

He tilted his head down again to whisper, "Silly … so you can see the room to describe what's going on. Remember, I can be nosey." Annie giggled at him.

The hostess placed the leather covered menus at two places on the four-top square table. Annie smiled and thanked her. Then she whispered "It's a square table" as she followed Auggie's instructions.

Auggie's hands grasped the back of the chair and pulled it out just far enough for Annie to slide in. Then, he found the table edge with the back of his hand, took a step to his left, located the chair around the corner from Annie and seated himself.

"Thank you," Annie said.

"No, thank you for allowing me to do that the way I know I should."

"Should I ask for a Braille menu?"

"That's ok," Auggie laughed. "Just remember you weren't going to shout the menu choices. What's on the wine list?"

Auggie's hands found the menu before Annie could tell him where it was. He picked it up off the table, slid it onto his lap, leaned over to Annie and asked, "So, what's for dinner, Asta?"

"Oh, har," Annie answered as she squinted in the low light and whispered the wine list, salad and entrée offerings, each one sounding tastier than the last.

Annie decided on the fettuccine with seafood in a cream sauce, and Auggie settled on the salmon filet "because I won't have to chase dinner around my plate and possibly the table," he explained good-heartedly.

I guess this will be our Thanksgiving dinner," Auggie offered, "so let's get a bottle of wine." When the waiter returned, Auggie ordered Chardonnay, and then they were attentive as he presented the bottle to them and opened it. When the waiter offered the cork to Auggie, Annie realized she needed to say something, "Auggie … the cork."

"Oh," Auggie said holding out his hand. "Thank you." The waiter looked a little puzzled and placed the cork in his hand. With a mischievous glint in his eyes and a wide smile, Auggie took a deep breath and sniffed the aroma of the wine soaked cork.

"Very nice."

"Shall I pour, sir?" the waiter asked.

Auggie nodded and listened intently as the waiter poured a splash into his wine glass for tasting. Annie leaned across the corner of the table and whispered "one o'clock." Auggie nodded. He slid his fingers across the table to the base of the wine glass and followed the stem up to the bowl. Picking up the glass with his right hand, Auggie checked the shape and height of the bowl with his left hand so he could swirl, sniff and taste without bumping his nose or a tooth.

"Very nice."

"Very well, sir," the waiter said as he moved to pour a glass for Annie before filling Auggie's glass. "There you are, sir," the waiter said after he realized he should give his customer a verbal cue.

Annie and Auggie enjoyed a few sips of wine before the Caesar salads arrived.

"Ok, you gonna let me in on what's bothering you and where you're heading off to for Thanksgiving?"

Auggie took another bite of salad and chewed slowly before answering. He took a deep, tortured breath and explained, "My mother coerced me into going home to Glencoe for Thanksgiving, and to be brutally honest with both you and myself, I'm not sure I'm up to it."

"It's your family," Annie said thoughtfully. "We do anything for our families … even spend an occasional holiday with them. That's what families do, Auggie."

"I know … but there's the whole traveling alone thing, relying on airline assistance workers, fighting the day-before-Thanksgiving crowds … and then there's the dealing with my family part of it."

"Your prowess as an officer in the Special Forces is legend at the office," Annie chose her words carefully because they were in a public place. "You have one of the brightest computer minds in the country."

"Hrumpfff," Auggie grunted as he chewed on a piece of romaine.

"And yet you're still afraid to take a stranger's arm, get on a plane and spend less than 48 hours with your parents and bothers?"

"It's not fear," Auggie whispered. "I know my presence makes them uncomfortable. It's like they're not sure what to say or do around me, and I'm not always sure what to do either. I want to protect them and myself from awkward situations."

"Oh Auggie," Annie giggled, "You don't have to be dealing with a war injury to have awkward family moments during a holiday celebration. We've had some doozies in my family. You're just looking for an excuse to stay in DC and not go home."

Auggie's head dropped a little and he sighed, "You're probably right."

"I know I'm right Mister Anderson. Besides, if you believe they feel uncomfortable around you, whose fault is that? You don't go home. You don't invite them here. If you start spending some time with your family, I bet it will get easier for everyone."

"MMMmmm, where'd you get all this newfound insight, Annie?"

"It's not newfound, Mister. This is just the first time we've discussed it, I guess."

"What ARE you getting at? Where are you going with this?"

Annie polished off her last morsel of romaine, sipped her wine and continued …

"The first day I showed up at work and met you, I was unsure of how to act around you. But I just followed your lead, and you put me at ease. Then, I realized how awesome you are at your job, and that was almost intimidating. Everyone you work with respects you, and we've all learned that if you want or need our help you'll let us know. Isn't that right?"

Auggie scrunched his face in thought. "I don't know about the intimidating thing, but you're right about waiting until I ask for help."

"I know I am," Annie said as the busboy cleared away the salad plates. The waiter reappeared and refilled the wine glasses as he announced their entrée would be served shortly.

"I'm just reminding you that the people you work with are comfortable with you and you're comfortable with us, because we're together all the time. You have to give your family the opportunity to know and understand the person you have become since you returned from Iraq."

"I'm not so sure I'm that much different than before the explosion," he said thoughtfully.

"Well, why don't you let your parents and brothers in on that little secret?" Annie asked and then let out a gasp, "Oh, my goodness!"

"What happened? Is everything ok?"

"Auggie …. What's the protocol for running into our bosses on a Saturday night at a restaurant?"

Auggie threw his head back laughing. "Did we get busted by Joan and Arthur?"

"I don't know if busted is the right term, but we've definitely been noticed."

"Where are they?" Auggie asked.

"They're both looking our way. They're at your nine o'clock, and now they've waved at me."

Auggie turned his head to the left, and with his wine glass in his right hand he smiled and gave Joan and Arthur a little toast of recognition. Annie smiled and waved.

Joan and Arthur nodded at the young couple. "How does he do that?" Arthur asked shaking his head.

"I keep telling you they make a great team," Joan said giving Arthur a toast with her wine glass.

The waiter returned balancing a heavy tray on his shoulder. He sat the tray on the stand beside their table and served the entrees with flair. Annie inhaled the steam from her seafood pasta. "Oh, Auggie, this looks almost too good to eat." Auggie cleared his throat to get Annie's attention away from her pasta.

"Oh, right … ok … salmon at six o'clock, rice pilaf at two o'clock and vegetables at ten o'clock."

"Thanks for the road map to dinner," Auggie chuckled. They spent several minutes enjoying dinner before Annie brought up the subject again of going home."

"When do you fly out Wednesday? I'm sure I can slip away for a while to give you a ride to National."

Auggie stopped eating and smiled at Annie.

Sensing she was cracking him, Annie continued, "I'd be happy to go in with you, but it wouldn't do much good because I couldn't get through security with you. So you probably would need to contact Travel Assistance."

"Thanks, Annie, but you don't need to do that. A cab will be just fine. It's not like I've never done it before."

"I know, but you'll be gone for a couple of days and I'd like it if my best friend would let me see him off on his holiday adventure to Illinois," Annie teased.

"Thanks for being such a good friend, Annie Walker. We'll see how things work out."

* * *

Finally, Auggie is talking about his apprehensions. Reviewing this before posting has made me hungry, so I'm going to go start dinner. In Chapter 5, Auggie begins the first leg of his journey home. Thanks to everyone who added my story to their alerts, and thank you, too, for the positive comments.


	5. Chapter 5

Well, Auggie hasn't chickened out from going home yet, and it looks like he's going to let Annie take him to the airport. This chapter is little shorter, but it just seemed like a natural break in the flow of the story. Thanks for the reviews and story alerts. What fun to have people following my story. I own nothing associated with Covert Affairs other than my imagination.

**Flight 642 - Chapter Five - Heading Out**

Late Tuesday afternoon Auggie circled Annie's desk, hovered a minute and leaned over to ask her if the offer for a ride to the airport was still on the table.

"You know it is, Mr. Anderson."

"I have another favor to ask. Can you pick me up on the way to the office? If I come by the car service, I can't bring my bag into the office. If I come in with you, I can leave the bag in your car."

"Great idea, I'll see you tomorrow morning at your place." Auggie nodded and headed back to his office with not even a trace of a smile on his face.

Annie did not want to make too much out of his accepting the ride to the airport for fear he'd change his mind. Since her Sri Lankan mission, Auggie continued to remind her how protective he is of her when she's in the field. Now, it is her turn to be a little protective of him. But, she's doesn't want to blow it out of proportion, because she knows he'll pull away.

* * *

Annie would rather be a little early than run the chance of getting caught in traffic on the way to Auggie's. He was the most punctual, on-time, deadline-meeting person she's ever known. Annie pulled into a parking space directly in front of the door to Auggie's building. She was 10 minutes early, but waited until the designated time to call Auggie to let him know she parked at the front door. "I'm at your 12 o'clock when you come out of the front door."

"Thanks, I'll be right down."

"Mornin' Auggie," Annie called to him as she opened the back hatch of her car for his luggage. He barely smiled as he stopped and turned his head to get a bearing of the direction of her voice.

"From the size of that bag, it doesn't look like you were up all night packing," she teased as he approached her. Annie took a couple of steps forward and grasped the handle to heave it into the car. Auggie slipped the computer bag off his shoulder, and Annie took it to stow it in the hatch. As Annie slammed the hatch shut, Auggie's fingers trailed along the passenger side of the car to the door. He hoped he wasn't smudging up the side of Annie's car … he always worried he left an-easy-to-follow trail of smudges wherever he went.

Annie dodged the traffic and hopped in the driver's seat. Trying to be bright, Auggie greeted her with "Good mornin' Sunshine!"

"Do you really feel that perky," Annie asked, "or are you just a good actor?"

"I'm practicing for the rest of the week. You're beginning to know me too well."

They drove in silence for a few blocks before Annie spied the Starbucks drive-thru. "Do you think we have time to swing through for some coffee?"

"Like I said earlier … you know me too well."

* * *

Just after lunch, Auggie began clearing his desk and organizing his files. His fingers slowly inched across the desktop searching for anything he may have missed. When he was sure everything was put away securely, he locked the drawers and turned off his computer. Since he would be gone from the office, he even locked up his favorite gadget - the laser cane.

Holding his folded up "civilian cane," Auggie carefully made his way to Annie's desk. "Geez," he thought to himself, "I forget how much I rely on the laser cane."

"Hey, Auggie, you look like you're ready to take off. Give me two seconds and we can head out to the car."

The walk to the car was unusually quiet. Annie tried to engage Auggie in a light conversation, but the only responses from him were grunts, groans and, at best, a word or two. Annie finally gave up thinking, "He can be such a guy."

On the way to the airport, Annie expressed some concern about Auggie's travel arrangements. "I don't feel right about screeching to a halt at the terminal entrance and pushing you out on the sidewalk. I know how independent you are, but I want to make sure your trip gets off to a good start."

Auggie sighed impatiently.

Annie kept talking. "You say you're protective of me when Joan sends me out on a mission. Let me just say, it's a two-way street. I can be protective of you, too."

He sighed again, reached over and squeezed Annie's shoulder. "Thanks. Just don't forget to tell me when we're about ten minutes from the terminal, so I can call the passenger assistance office to have someone meet me at the entrance."

"Okay," Annie said trying to sound less concerned.

"They'll help me navigate the airport. You may find this hard to believe, but I can and do ask for help when I know I should. But I want to be on the record that I don't always like it."

"I've noticed," Annie laughed, causing Auggie to laugh at himself, too.

"We're getting close to the terminal. You'd better make that call."

Annie pulled up in the passenger drop-off lane, stopped and announced, "We're here."

Auggie sighed heavily before he could catch himself. Then they both laughed and reached out for each other's hands. Their fingers twined together and softly squeezed in silent communication of friendship and understanding.

"Anne, I do believe I am going to miss you for the next 41 hours."

"I'll miss you too, August, but we gotta get this show on the road."

They both got out of the car and walked around to the back. Annie opened the hatch and handed Auggie his messenger bag with his personal laptop. Auggie held it for a moment and had second thoughts about lugging it to Chicago. "Annie, do you mind keeping the laptop for me? It'll be one less thing for me to keep track of."

"Sure, if you trust me with it," she teased as she put it back in the car. When Auggie heard her pulling out his small leather suitcase, he opened his cane, tapped it to be sure it was locked and held out his left hand for the bag.

As he stepped up on the curb, Auggie was greeted by a young woman. "Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes."

Annie placed her hand on his left shoulder. She reached up, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Have a good time." The quick double pat on the shoulder said "I'm leaving now."

"Mr. Anderson, I'm Sandra Helton, and I'll be happy to assist you today."

As she pulled away from the curb, Annie glanced in the rear view mirror to see Auggie walking confidently to the terminal with the young woman who'd met him. She smiled and whispered to herself, "I'm so lucky to know him and have him a as a friend."

* * *

What will happen in Chapter 6 that causes Auggie to be concerned? And why will Annie wish she'd paid closer attention to some of Auggie's computer lessons?


	6. Chapter 6

Auggie's trip home may turn out to be a little more eventful that he'd planned. But then, Auggie is always "jonesing" for field work, isn't he? Guess he forgot the old adage "Be careful what you wish for." I own nothing but my imagination and admiration for everyone who brings Covert Affairs to life. Congratulations to Piper Perabo for her Golden Globe nomination!

* * *

**Flight 642 – Chapter 6 – The Airport**

"According to my information, Mr. Anderson, you are flying first class to Chicago O'Hare."

"That's right, but please call me Auggie. It sounds terribly busy here today. I guess I should have tried to book an earlier flight."

"It's busy," Sandra answered, "but things are moving. We haven't had any surprises. Let's get you checked in and through security."

Auggie concentrated to tune out the cacophony of a holiday airport to stay focused on what people were saying to him. Sandra was adept at interacting with a blind person, and Auggie appreciated how unobtrusive and professional she was. As they approached security, Sandra explained that he would be met on the concourse side by another travel assistant, Bill Sampson.

Making their way through the crowd to the gate, Bill chatted with Auggie while giving him a blow-by-blow description of the people swarming around them. Auggie was enjoying his vicarious people watching.

"Mr. Anderson, here we are at Gate 32." After helping Auggie find a seat, Bill explained that one of the gate agents would assist him in pre-boarding the plane. "Hope you have a good flight, Sir."

"Thanks for the help. I appreciate it."

Auggie settled in to relax and listen to his tunes while he waited. The soothing jazz beat was interrupted by the buzzing of the phone in his blazer pocket. He answered, "Anderson."

"Hey, Auggie! Where are you?" It was Annie.

"That is so funny. Just where do you think I would be?"

"Silly …. Have you made it to the gate? Everything ok so far?"

"Yes and yes. Stop fussing. Just because I don't enjoy this, doesn't mean I don't do it with great flair and skill," Auggie teased.

"See you Friday, then."

The waiting area was becoming loud and crowded. Auggie opened the bezel of his watch to check the time. "If we're on time," he thought, "I'll have to board in about 20 minutes."

He methodically tucked his iPod and travel ear phones into a small zippered pocket on the front of his bag and tried to be patient and not figit while he waited. He didn't want to make the gate agent wait for him when it was time to board. He reached down again to make sure his collapsed cane was secure in its pocket … then he relaxed. He was ready for the next leg of the trip.

Airport noises swirled around him. The bits of conversation he overheard ranged from amusing to profoundly heartbreaking.

Auggie gasped.

"What did I just hear?" He turned his head and listened intently, concentrating on the voices … two men and a woman. They were speaking Arabic in hushed tones … Iraqi Arabic.

The conversation seemed to be innocuous, but the tone, use of some words and phrasing of it seemed off. The CIA/special ops officer in Auggie did not want to leave anything to chance.

"Come on Annie, pick up … pick up," he whispered to himself."

"Walker."

"Annie? Do you have time to do me a favor?"

"Don't tell me you're chickening out, and now I have to drive through this heavy traffic to come get you," Annie taunted. Auggie grinned at her banter.

"No," he whispered. "Can you check the passenger list for this flight? See if anything looks suspicious or if there are any flagged names."

"Wanna give me a hint what I'm looking for, Anderson."

Auggie crossed his legs, shifted in his seat turning away from the person sitting to his right and whispered, "Iraqi names. Two men and a woman. See what we might know about them."

* * *

Annie opened the search engine and typed in November 24, 2010, Delta Flight 642. She sipped on her coffee while the computer searched and the screen flickered. The report popped on the screen with August Anderson at the top. "Well, at least I found the right passenger list," she thought.

Scrolling through the list, Annie spotted three Middle Eastern names. "Hummh, Guess this is who he's talking about."

She jotted down their names and began searching for information on them individually. No results popped up on the first two names, but there was a hit on the third. Malik Salman was brought to the U.S. in 2006 by the agency and resettled with a new identity. But, there was no immediate information on his apparent companions.

Auggie's flight was scheduled to start boarding soon, so Annie dialed hurriedly hoping she could reach him. Auggie's phone buzzed in his coat pocket. "Anderson," he answered quietly in his most business-like tone.

"I found the passenger list, and three Middle Eastern names. Nothing on two of them, but one was relocated here by the agency in 2006. I'll keep searching."

"Get back to me quick, before they tell us to turn off phones." Friend Auggie had transformed back into agent/special ops officer Anderson. Steel authority resonated in his voice.

"Will do," Annie said as she ended the call. "I've got no more than 15 minutes," Annie thought to herself as she started accessing data bases.

Malik Salman had been relocated to the U.S. in 2006, that much she could find.

Searches for Sabeen Massoum and Gabir Abdul-Kadin resulted in "No Matches." Annie could feel her heart rate increase. Until five minutes ago, she hadn't truly understood how innately exciting Auggie's job is and how important everything he does is to the safety of his officers and to the national security.

In the gate area at the airport, Auggie continued to listen to the three foreign voices, trying to pick up their conversation in the crowd noise.

"Mr. Anderson …. Mr. Anderson," a voice punctured through his deep thoughts. Auggie turned his head up to the direction of the voice and smiled warmly, "Yes."

"Are you ready to board?" a woman asked … sounding a little gravelly like she's smoked too many cartons of Marlboros and drank too many whiskey sours.

"Ready when you are," Auggie responded as he stood up with the carryon bag in his left hand. He sensed the ticket agent had stepped close to his right side, so Auggie raised his right hand to take a light hold on her left elbow.

"Do you have your boarding pass, so we can scan it?"

Auggie reached into the outer pocket of his bag and deftly pulled out the boarding pass. "There you go."

"I see you're flying first class today."

"A gift from my mother," he felt it necessary to explain.

"You have a thoughtful mother, Mr. Anderson."

"Yes, and she's devious, too. This ticket is a bribe to guilt me into going home for Thanksgiving."

The boarding pass was scanned and Auggie followed the agent down the jet way into the plane where he was shown to his seat, 4C on the aisle in the last row of first class.

"Here we are, Mr. Anderson. Do you need help with your bag?"

"Nope. But can you tell me if the overhead bin is clear?"

"It's empty."

Auggie raised his left had to locate the open bin and mentally gage how high to lift his bag. Then he heaved it effortlessly into the bin. The gate agent left saying, "Have a nice flight."

As Auggie settled in to his seat, the flight attendant kneeled in the seat in front of him and leaned over the back to introduce herself and to offer her help, if needed. Auggie raised his head to the sound of her voice, smiled and thanked her.

Megan, the flight attendant, lightly gasped when the warm, dimpled smile radiated from his handsome face. Auggie's smile broadened when he realized he still possessed his ability to turn on the charm. Megan cleared her throat, regained her composure and reminded Auggie that someone from travelers' assistance would be available to help him to the terminal after the other passengers had deplaned in Chicago.

Auggie nodded and said, "I'll be right here."

* * *

Roles are reversed in Chapter 7, when Annie finds herself behind a desk at the DPD running the computer and Auggie is in a plane streaking across the Midwest sky the night before Thanksgiving. (Thanks for the story alerts and positive comments, which make the writing journey even more enjoyable.)


	7. Chapter 7

Well, the tables are turned on Annie this time. She really understands what Auggie meant when he was trying to help his old unit with a mission, but was "stuck behind a desk at the DPD." As a disclaimer, I own nothing but my imagination; but sure wish I did because these characters are just too much fun to write for. Did everyone see Piper Perabo and Doug Liman on Morning Joe this morning? Great interview!

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 7 - Search and Discovery**

Back at Langley, Annie frantically searched the databases. She went back to the initial record for Malik Salmon and drilled through his file. She found her first lead. Malik Salmon had married Amira Massoum.

Click … scroll … click … click … scroll … scroll.

Amira Massoum had been killed in an explosion in Iraq about six months before Malik had come to the US. He had been working as an informant for the Agency. The file was unclear as to whether Sabeen Massoum or Gabir Abdul-Kadim had histories with the Agency. It was clear that Sabeen and Amira were sisters, and Gabin's history was non-existent. Was he a relative? A friend? A romantic interest? Something much worse?"

Auggie's phone vibrated in his blazer pocket. "Anderson," he whispered.

Annie explained what she'd found. "Hrummm," Auggie said. "There's nothing actionable there, yet. Do you have time to keep digging? Something just not right. I'll keep my phone on as long as I can, so you call me first if you find something. If you can't reach me, call Joan."

"I'll stay on it," Annie agreed. "But you take care. I have a strange feeling about this, too."

"I'll keep my ears open on this end," Auggie said in a reassuring tone. "You keep digging. I've gotta go … people are starting to board."

"About that," Annie said. "I'm always booked in coach, but I noticed on your e-ticket printout you're flying first class. What gives with the double standard?"

Auggie fake huffed but couldn't keep from smiling. "My mom. It's a bribe to get me home for Thanksgiving."

Auggie kept his phone turned on until the attendant asked passengers to turn off their electronics, but he did not hear back from Annie.

He listened closely as the passengers had boarded and had heard the voices with heavy Iraqi accents pass through the first class cabin back to coach. Auggie realized he could still hear the foreign accented voices, so they must be just a few rows back from the first class cabin. Trying to concentrate on what the trio might be discussing, Auggie leaned his head back in his seat, closed his eyes and pretended to take a catnap.

Auggie was snapped back to the moment when a breathless female voice apologized for the intrusion. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm in 4D, and I need to scoot in to the seat beside you, sir."

"Oh, certainly," Auggie responded while standing up to let her step into her seat.

"Thank you," said the attractive petite middle aged and slightly frazzled woman. "My meeting ran late and then the traffic was worse than I could have imagined. For a little while there, I was afraid I might be spending Thanksgiving in DC while my husband and teenagers celebrated the holiday with a pizza party."

The seatmates settled and Auggie said, "Well, It sounds like your family has a great sense of style. That would have been a perfect holiday dinner for me and my brothers when we were kids."

As she leaned down to push her computer case under the seat, Auggie's seatmate noticed his folded cane tucked into the seat back pocket. She studied the cane for a moment and glanced up to Auggie's handsome face. She could not help but stare for a long moment. For a split second, Auggie could feel her stare. He shook off the feeling and smiled when he realized she'd probably noticed his cane.

Whether it was just an old habit that was difficult to break, or a matter of necessity for an emergency, Auggie still carried a pen and a small note paid in the inside breast pock of his blazer along with his phone. Having the feeling that something unexpected was imminent, Auggie felt the pocket to be sure he hadn't forgotten the pen and pad.

While the flight attendant droned through the safety announcements, Auggie resumed his catnapping position and concentrated on voices drifting his way from the coach cabin. When the attendant finished her announcements, she began checking the cabin. As she brushed past Auggie, she leaned over him slightly and said, "Mr. Anderson, I just want to let you know your closest emergency exit is the main cabin door that you entered."

"Thank you," Auggie whispered, making a mental note of how helpful and attentive she was. He felt he could ask her for help, if his instincts were right.

Take off was smooth, and Auggie tried to block out the engine noise to zero in on the voices speaking Arabic several rows behind him, but he could barely hear their voices much less catch any conversation.

* * *

Darkness had fallen over the CIA headquarters and most officers and support personnel had left the DPD office suite. A few had slowed down when they passed Annie's desk, wishing her a happy Thanksgiving. The ones who knew her well, didn't interrupt her concentration on the computer screen, recognizing her laser-like focus.

Annie's computer skills were more than proficient, but she did not know the file search shortcuts that Auggie had developed. She was wishing she'd paid more attention to how Auggie came through with vital information during stressful, pressure-filled ops.

"Blasted, Annie, you should have paid closer attention when Auggie showed you how these searches worked," she thought to herself. Annie was frustrated and about to call Barber for help when a hit popped up on the screen. The hits were on Sabeen Massouin and Gabir Abdul-Kadin. Both had attended a university in Bagdad, and both had earned masters and doctoral degrees in their areas. They were lovers, it appeared.

Because of Sabeen's association/relationship by marriage to Malik, the couple had been granted a visa to visit the U.S.

"But why are they flying to Chicago over the Thanksgiving holiday?" Annie asked herself. "This just doesn't make sense."

Time was crushing Annie Walker like an emotional steam roller. Auggie was 36,000 feet in the air with what may or may not be terrorists, and she couldn't find concrete facts that would prove Auggie's intuition and observations into something actionable.

Annie knew that when Auggie struggled with a problem, he'd stop and go at it from a totally different direction. So, she decided to try a different approach with this search. She started pulling up the names of radical groups thought to still be operating in the Middle East. Scanning the reports associated with the groups, she gasped. There it was. Their names were in a report on a loosely organized group of radical scientists who harbored more than a little ill will toward the US.

A young Iraqi who'd had ties to the US Embassy had tried to work his way into the group, but he had obtained only basic information before his family had the opportunity to relocate to the States so that his sisters could continue their educations. Information in the reports seemed credible. There were details about meetings where the leaders railed against the US and encouraged acts of revenge. They made fun of the shoe and underwear bombers and vowed to devise a way to carry out a successful attack against the US.

Annie took a second to take a calming, deep breath. And, knowing that she couldn't reach Auggie, she picked up her phone, pressed the speed dial number and waited for Joan to pick up. Joan checked the screen on her phone buzzing on the coffee table. "Annie" scrolled across the phone's screen.

"Uh, Huh – this better be good," Joan answered.

"I think we have a situation." Annie took a deep breath, collected her thoughts and started explaining what Auggie had observed and what her research had uncovered.

Flight 642 had been in the air a little more than 30 minutes. Auggie knew the beverage cart would come out soon, and he felt he should talk to the flight attendant. Auggie stirred in his seat to feign waking up from his short nap. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead with his thumb. He heard his seat mate turning pages of a magazine, so he figured he would not be interrupting her if he asked for help.

Turning toward his seat mate, Auggie said, "Excuse me, would you mind pressing the call button for me?"

"Oh, sure, is there something I can do?"

"Thank you, no," Auggie smiled. "I need to speak with the attendant."

In less than a minute, Megan was leaning over Auggie, "Yes, Sir?"

Auggie whispered to her, causing her to lean in even closer to his head. "I need to ask you an important question. Can we step into the front galley, so no one overhears?"

The attendant reluctantly agreed. "Okay," she said as she straightened up. Auggie stood up, took her elbow lightly and followed her to the galley.

"What's this about?"

"I don't want to freak you out; but I work for a government agency, and I have reason to believe that we have passengers on this flight that intend to do us harm."

The young woman gasped.

"Stay calm," Auggie said reassuringly. "Is there an air marshal on this flight?"

The attendant nodded. Not hearing a response, Auggie smiled and asked, "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, a marshal's on board."

"Where is he or she sitting? Can you get a message to the Marshal without alerting the three Middle Eastern individuals several rows behind me?"

Auggie had placed his hand on the attendant's shoulder so he had a reference of how far he could lean into her ear to whisper the questions.

The attendant gathered her thoughts and slowly turned her head toward Auggie. "How do I get a message to him?"

"Write a note and hand it to him. Is he sitting behind the people I'm concerned about?"

She nodded again, but remembered to whisper, "Yes."

"Good, if they try to make any kind of move, he can see what's happening. If any of them start coming to the front of the plane, yell my name and I'll stop them in the aisle."

"Okay," she hesitated, "what's your name?"

"Auggie," he whispered, "I guess I forgot an important detail, didn't I?"

"Now, you need to write the note and take it to him with a bottle of water that you forgot he requested." Auggie reached into his blazer pocket, retrieved his pen and notepad and handed them to the attendant.

"Make it simple. Just say a passenger believes there may be a problem with the three passengers in that row. Give him the row and seat numbers."

The young woman took the pen and pad. Trying to keep her hand from shaking, she wrote the note and handed the pen and pad back to Auggie. She reached into her stowed beverage cart for a bottle of water, took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this."

"Yes, you can," Auggie assured her. "Now, show me back to my seat. I wouldn't want to surprise the businessman in front of me by sitting on his lap."

She smiled at Auggie. "Sure … ready?"

She took a step out of the galley and stopped for a moment for Auggie to take her elbow. They made their way back to Auggie's seat where she whispered, "Here you are, Sir."

"Thank you," Auggie said as he slid back into his seat and started to buckle his seat belt. He thought again and decided to rest his arms in his lap over the unbuckled belt.

Megan approached the Air Marshal farther back in the coach section. "Sir, here's the water you requested when you boarded." She held out the bottle with the note wrapped around the label.

Marshal Jim Wilson looked up, nodded and said, "Thank you." As he took the bottle, he could feel the extra piece of paper slip around the label. Uncapping the bottle with his right hand, he slipped the paper off the bottle with his left hand and palmed it for the moment.

Taking a swig of water, Marshal Wilson looked down at the note. Adeline surged through his body as he focused on the individuals to his left several rows in front of him. "This could be someone's over-active imagination, OR it could be the real thing," he thought.

* * *

There's definitely some danger in the air for Chapter 8. Will Auggie and the Air Marshall be able to keep the passengers safe? Thanks to everyone who's following my story. I hope you're having as much fun as I am.


	8. Chapter 8

Well, here's Chapter 8 … there's "danger in the air," and you can bet Auggie will figure out a way to get in the middle of it. Thanks to everyone who's been interested in receiving a speedy update. Enjoy! Oh, I own nothing associated with Covert Affairs or its characters other than my imagination.

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 8 - Danger in the Air**

During the first half hour of the flight, the three passengers under Auggie's scrutiny began to put their sinister plan into action.

Undetectable plastic explosives were concealed in MP3 players. Their cell phones were actually deadly weapons, having been modified into small caliber mini handguns with plastic bullets that could disable or kill when fired at close range. These cell phones also were modified in a way to fool security screeners.

The trio of terrorists had opted to keep their coats with them rather than stuff them in the overhead compartments. When they settled in their seats after boarding, they all used their coats as blankets. Not unusual behavior for winter air travelers who want to rest during a flight. In actuality, the coats concealed their bomb assembly.

For months, they'd each practiced blindfolded while they assembled the bomb with plastic explosives. Well-practiced fingers dismantled the music players and combined the plastic explosives and connected circuits into one device … one that had enough fire power to disable the plane, or if detonated in the right area, take it down immediately.

The first part of their mission accomplished, the newly assembled weapon was concealed in Malik Salmon's pocket and the trio rearranged their coats. Malik was sitting on the aisle, so he stood and shoved his coat in the overhead bin.

The plane was about 45 minutes into its hour-and-a-half trip to Chicago.

* * *

August Anderson had left behind many months ago his feelings of helplessness. He could manage any situation. He was cautious. He planned his every move in his mind with the precision of a military maneuver. Instead of wasting his energy on anger over his blindness, he channeled it into his work and the problem solving it demanded of him. August Anderson also was learning that there was no shame in asking for help and accepting it with a charming smile. But, tonight streaking across the twilight skies over the Midwest, he was feeling helpless. If he had been in this situation a few years ago, he would have walked down the aisle of the plane assessing each passenger. He would have been able to identify the air marshal and make eye contact with him … just a knowing nod to let him know there was someone else on board who could help if the worst-case scenario began to play out.

Tonight's August Anderson sat quietly listening for any unusual sound or activity. He pushed unproductive thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on what he could do to keep the plane and its passengers safe.

The noise of the beverage cart rattled in the cabin blocking out any sounds that would alert Auggie of a problem. He clinched his jaw in frustration and anticipation. Finally, the carts were stowed, and the attendants made their way up and down the aisle to collect cups and trash.

"Sir …. Auggie," the attendant whispered, "are you finished with your coffee?"

Auggie nodded and raised the empty cup for her to take from him. She leaned over to Auggie's ear and whispered, "They've been real quiet back there, but I'll watch closely the rest of the trip." Auggie nodded that he understood her.

Cart stowed, trash collected … the aisles were clear except for a few passengers making their way to and from the restrooms. The plane was about a half an hour out from its scheduled landing. With the plane entering airspace over a highly populated area, Auggie knew that if the trio were going to make a move, it would be eminent.

Auggie stayed alert to his surroundings, but couldn't help but think about his family – especially his mother, who was so happy he'd agreed to go home for the holiday. Then, there were Joan and Arthur who had pushed him and helped him to create this remarkable career at the agency after the explosion in Tikrit.

And … then … there was Annie with her friendship, humor, appreciation of his jokes, and grapefruit perfume to keep him aware of her presence. Annie Walker teased him about being mesmerizing (_whatever THAT meant_). Aboard Flight 642 the evening before Thanksgiving Auggie realized that he wanted to be with Annie again and to have the opportunity to tell her how mesmerizing she is to him.

"Tonight," he thought to himself, "might just be the test to see if all my expensive training has a pay off."

* * *

Joan hung up the phone after her curt conversation with Annie.

"Arthur, we have a situation on a plane going in to Chicago tonight."

"There goes Thanksgiving," lowering his book and hitting the mute button on the TV.

"Protocol for getting word to the pilots? Who should be read in and what's the quickest way to do it?" Joan yelled to Arthur as she hurried to her closet to change out of her sweats and tee shirt.

"Back up a sec," Arthur said following her to the closet. "How do we know there's a problem?"

"Auggie overheard some conversation in Arabic in the boarding area for his flight this afternoon and asked Annie to do some research. She's come up with some frightening intel … I believe enough to start alerting people."

Arthur peeled off his sweatshirt and grabbed a cashmere pullover out of the armoire.

"Let's go in together," he said as he grabbed his keys. "I'll drive and you can start making calls. We need to put everyone on high alert."

Annie paced the hall outside of Joan's office waiting for her to burst through the doors to the DPD. Hurried footsteps echoed through the main corridor, and Annie's intuition was right. Joan burst into the DPD with Arthur a half step behind her. Annie held out the file she'd compiled during the past hour about the suspected terrorists and their histories. Joan grabbed the folder and spread its contents across her desk.

As Joan studied Annie's intel, she said, "We've gotten word to the pilots that there could be a problem, and it's been confirmed that there's a sky marshal on this flight. And … we all know Auggie's going to end up in the middle of this whether he should or not."

Joan's gaze met Annie's, and Annie nodded … even managed a small smile through her concern. "I'm here to do whatever I can to help," Annie offered.

Joan jotted several email addresses on a slip of paper. "Please send the information you've gathered to these emails. If there really is a threat tonight, it's no time for turf protecting."

* * *

In Row 8, the three passengers began to stir, acting like they were waking up from naps and shifting their coats behind them. The man sitting in the aisle seat stood to allow the woman to move into the aisle. No one, except the marshal, paid attention to the move. After all, the flight was nearing its end, and passengers were making last minute trips to the restrooms.

The trio situated themselves in the aisle, and instead of heading to the back of the plane, they reached into their pockets pulled out the disguised guns and explosive device. Their screaming was loud and angry as they rushed the first class cabin toward the cockpit.

Hearing the commotion and sensing the purposeful footsteps rushing toward him, Auggie stood and faced the rear of the plane to block the aisle. The flight attendant was yelling, "Auggie, Auggie."

The man leading the charge was shouting angry slogans in Arabic. Auggie braced himself and reached out to grab the first attacker's shoulders – man or woman – Auggie didn't care who he was taking down. Marshal Wilson had jumped to action running up the aisle to grab the woman. He noticed all three were holding some kind of small apparatuses. He grabbed the woman, spun her around, took her down and after a short struggle retrieved the phone-turned-gun from her.

The passenger across the aisle and two rows up from the trio was a Marine in civilian clothes traveling home to Chicago for the holiday.

The second he realized something was not right about their behavior, his training took over. He climbed over his seatmate to grab the center attacker. "Get that crap out of his hand," Marshal Wilson yelled to the Marine.

Flailing, screaming, kicking, rolling and shrieking … finally the Marine was able to get his hands on the weapon.

Other passengers stepped in to keep the two attackers subdued in the aisle while the Marshal and the Marine headed to the first class cabin to help Auggie. He had already taken down the would-be bomber, but had not wrestled the miniature, but deadly, bomb or the gun device away from him yet. The marshal saw the attacker's hand come up and try to take aim at Auggie's head with what looked like a cell phone. The Marine lunged toward Auggie and the attacker and managed to deflect the weapon as one shot was squeezed off hitting an overhead bin. The pop of the small makeshift gun was loud enough to elicit screams from the female passengers in the front cabin.

In the tussle, the Marine managed to snatch the weapons out of the terrorist's hands, and Marshall Wilson grabbed his hands and cuffed him.

"Hey man, you ok?" the Marine asked Auggie. "Can I give you a hand up?" Auggie held his arm up and the Marine grabbed his hand pulling him off the floor.

"That sounded like a hand gun. How did they get a gun past security," Auggie asked out loud, not really expecting an answer.

"I don't know, man, but you had some awesome moves there."

"Thanks," Auggie patted the Marine's sturdy shoulder. "In the tussle, I kinda lost my bearings here. Can you show me where my seat is? …. Are they all subdued and cuffed?"

"Yeah, they're all under control."

Realizing Auggie was blind, the Marine was almost at a loss for words. "B..b..but now I really want to know how you did that."

Auggie smiled and shook his head. "I'd kinda like to know that, too. I guess my special ops training took over … that and my sense of self preservation."

The Marine patted the back of Auggie's shoulder and guided him back to his seat. After he sat down, Auggie realized his left cheek and eye were throbbing. He felt his face and thought, "Oh, man … that's going to leave a mark."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the Captain. Please prepare for landing. When we land, we will taxi away from the terminal and park so the authorities can board the plane and remove the individuals who attempted to harm us."

The Captain continued, "We'll get you to the terminal as soon as we can, but the authorities, we are told, will need to speak with each of and obtain your contact information."

Auggie's seatmate was still hyperventilating and whispering prayers. Auggie thought he heard the rattle of Rosary beads. He turned to her and asked, "How are you doing?"

"Oh, wow, I think I'm ok. I guess I'll have a real Thanksgiving tomorrow with my family because of you. You were awesome."

Never good at accepting compliments, Auggie smiled shyly and said, "You'll have lots of Thanksgivings to spend with your family."

Auggie fished his phone out of his pocket. The second the plane landed, he sent a text to Joan and Annie to let them know he was safe and they needed to come up with a cover story for his latest escapade. Coming up with a story wasn't the problem. He wanted to be sure he had the appropriate cover and back up from Langley.

* * *

Air traffic was diverted from O'Hare while the jet from DC landed and taxied to the end of the runway farthest from the terminal. Emergency vehicles speed across the runways to intersect with the plane and escort it to its stop.

The microphone popped and cracked as the Captain began his next announcement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen … we're going to get you to the gate as soon as possible. Please stay seated while the authorities come on board and remove these people."

As the announcement was being made, Auggie texted Joan first and then Annie: "Wheels down. Suspects subdued, all ok."

Joan quickly responded: "R people in place. U know what 2 do."

Annie was so emotionally exhausted and relieved, all she could muster was a whispered, "Thank, God." She slipped her phone back into her pocket, stared at her computer screen and realized tears were welling up in her eyes.

"Deep breaths ... keep it together," she told herself as she rested her forehead in the crook of her arm on her desk. Joan looked out over the officers' pit and noticed Annie alone at her desk with her head down. She understood the young officer's emotions and relief.

"Annie," Joan said as she gently patted her shoulder. "Why don't you take a break and head home?"

Annie nodded as she raised her head. Joan smiled reassuringly when she noticed tears pooling around the rims of Annie's eyes.

"Auggie's safe. Enjoy the holiday with your family and we'll have more intel to analyze than we'll know what to do with on Friday morning."

* * *

And just when we think the scariest part of the trip is over; Auggie has to face his parents and Thanksgiving with the family. Chapter 9 brings Auggie home to Glencoe.


	9. Chapter 9

The plane landed safely, now Auggie faces having a heart-to-heart talk with his mother. And, to my friends at the office who alternated between begging for Chapter 9 and harassing me to get it posted quickly this evening, I hope you enjoy Auggie's chat with his mom. Like Arthur pointed out in an earlier chapter, Auggie has more issues than the _New York Times_. (Don't we all?) Anyway, I want to point out that I own nothing associated with Covert Affairs.

* * *

Flight 642 - Chapter 9 - On the Ground

Auggie, the experienced special ops soldier … the confident CIA officer realized he was a little unnerved at how to explain this delay to his parents, especially his mother. Auggie's State Department cover worked well with his brothers and their families, but his parents knew the truth about his life in DC. In this moment, Auggie realized that even the coolest mom would be freaked out by what just happened.

Sorting through his thoughts, Auggie realized, "Hell, this has me freaked out. Who am I kidding?"

An impish grin spread over his face as he thought, "There's no way to keep everything from Mom this time. When she finds out, she's going to duct tape me to the dining room chair to keep me in Illinois. Annie's going to have to come rescue me."

The thud of the portable steps being pushed up to the plane snapped Auggie back to reality.

Armed FBI agents swooped onto the plane and made quick work of removing the would-be bombers. The last FBI man stopped at the cockpit door and spoke to the Captain who nodded. The Captain leaned over to the flight attendant, whispered instructions to her and disappeared behind the cockpit door. The attendant picked up the microphone and updated the passengers on what would happen next:

"When we reach the gate, FBI agents will interview each passenger. The media is aware of what happened tonight, so you might encounter reporters. The airline is doing everything possible to protect your privacy.

"Announcements are also being made in the terminal to let your families and friends know you have arrived safely, but will be delayed in meeting them.

* * *

Amanda and Frederick Anderson looked at each other when they heard the announcement and shook their heads. Amanda whispered to her husband, "Want to bet on who's in the middle of whatever happened?"

"Nothing's ever simple when that boy's involved," Frederick answered with a sigh.

* * *

FBI agents entered the plane in pairs and escorted passengers to the makeshift interview area that was set up in the waiting area across the concourse. A large hand clasped Auggie's shoulder, and an even stronger voice asked, "Anderson? Are you ready?"

Auggie nodded and pulled his folded cane from the seat pocket. "Can I get my carryon?"

"Sure."

Auggie stepped into the aisle, felt for the latch to open the overhead bin, pulled down his bag, sat it in his empty seat for a moment and shoved his cane into the outside pocket.

"Have everything?" the FBI agent asked.

Auggie nodded and said, "Let's go … get this over with."

The FBI man took hold of Auggie's arm and tried to steer him down the aisle. Auggie stopped and whispered, "This will be much easier for both of us, if you allow me to take your arm."

Out in the concourse, Auggie and his escort were met by a young clipboard-carrying FBI agent. Sandy Wilson had been briefed about Auggie while the plane was making its way across the tarmac to the jet way.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm FBI Agent Sandra Wilson. I have a few questions for the record, and then I'll make sure we get you out of here without being bothered by the media."

Auggie nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Sandra."

"Oh, Mr. Anderson, you can call me Sandy."

"And, call me Auggie."

Auggie put down his carryon bag and pulled out the telescoping handle. He smiled and stood causally beside the bag with his arms crossed while Sandy wrote down his contact information and the answers to her questions.

"Well, that's about all I need right now. I'm assuming you're having a friend or family member meet you. We've asked people meeting this flight to assemble in the USO."

"My parents should be there, then."

"Well, may I accompany you to the USO? The sooner we get this show on the road, the better chance we have of avoiding the media," Sandy said moving to his right side.

Auggie nodded, smiled and lightly grasped her left elbow. "Thank you." He took hold of the extended handle of his bag and they walked down the concourse.

As they made their way to the waiting area, Sandy chatted about the evening's events. "From what we've put together, you're quite the hero, Auggie."

Auggie shook his head, "Nope. Just doing what I was trained to do. The Air Marshall and the passengers who jumped in to help are the ones who saved the day."

"Well, I think it's a shame we're supposed to keep you away from the media. You have a great story to tell … injured veteran helps save a plane load of people on Thanksgiving Eve. It's too bad very few people will ever know about you."

"It's fine, Sandy. I don't like the limelight, and this is the way we handle things at The Company."

As Sandy opened the door to the USO lounge, she asked, "How are we going to find your parents in this crowd?"

"Don't be too concerned. My mother has some special 'mom-dar.' That's why I live in DC."

Sandy laughed. Stepping into the USO, Sandy said, "Well, here we are."

"Let's stand here a few seconds and see how long it takes her to realize I'm in the room. Ten, nine, eight …"

"AUGGIE!" Amanda Anderson squealed over the din of the crowd.

Auggie turned to Sandy, "See."

Amanda pushed her way through the crowd, ran to Auggie and wrapped him in the tightest hug he's ever experienced. Frederick was right behind his wife. Amanda pulled back from the hug, looked up at her son's face and gasped, "Auggie, what exactly happened in that plane?" as she ran her finger tips across his bruised cheek and swelling eye.

"Uh, Mom, can we talk about it on the way home. I'm fine. Really."

"Aug," Frederick said as he patted his son's shoulder. "It's good to see you're still in one piece. When we got the news, I knew you'd be in the middle of whatever happened up there."

"You know me, Dad. I just seem to be a magnet for things that want to explode."

His parents looked at each other, but neither could find the right words. Frederick gave Auggie's shoulder another sturdy pat, and Amanda, who had stepped out of the hug; but refused to let go of her son's hand, gave it a squeeze. Auggie nodded in his dad's direction and squeezed his mother's hand.

"Auggie," the young FBI agent said, "you're free to go. We know where to find you, if we need to talk."

Frederick took hold of the handle of Auggie's rolling bag and said unemotionally, "I'll take care of this.'

"Looks like we have a chance to make our get away," Amanda said.

Amanda still had a light grasp on Auggie's hand … understanding that her son, no matter how well adjusted to his blindness, might appreciate an anchor in the strange surroundings. Auggie slid his hand up to his mother's elbow and said, "Ready when you guys are."

During the ride home, Auggie filled in his parents about the events on the plane and why he'd been suspicious about the culprits. He bragged about how his friend, Annie, had stayed at the office to search for the information that proved Auggie's intuition was right.

Amanda and Frederick listened intently because once they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, all talk of Auggie's exploits and work would cease. If anyone commented on his bruised cheek and swelling eye, Auggie would pass it off as an unfortunate encounter with a door frame in an unfamiliar men's room.

"Auggie, I understand what you do is important," Amanda sighed, "but I wish I could have convinced you to come back to the Chicago area. Just so you'd be a little closer."

"Mom, we keep having this conversation. My career … and what I love to do … is in Washington. Tonight was an extreme exception and it really had nothing to do with my job. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right and had the opportunity to pick up on what was happening."

"Or the wrong place at the wrong time," Amanda said under her breath.

"Mom!" Auggie said in mock exasperation.

Auggie and his parents made their way across the breezeway from the garage into the kitchen that was filled with night-before-Thanksgiving aromas and sounds.

"Aaron's fiancé, Cynthia, is a caterer," Amanda whispered to Auggie as they stepped into the kitchen, "When she heard your flight was coming in this evening, she insisted on taking over some of the preparation for me, so both your dad and I could go to the airport."

"Cynthia! It looks like you have everything under control. I'd like to introduce you to the fifth Anderson son. This is Auggie," Amanda said.

"Well, hello, Cynthia. I understand congratulations are in order for you and Aaron," Auggie said as he offered his hand.

"Thank you, Auggie. It's nice to meet you, but I'm literally up to my elbows in turkey prep …"

"I understand," Auggie chuckled as he put down his hand.

Starting toward the hall to go upstairs, Auggie said, "I'll put my things in my room and come back down for a snack. There wasn't anything except drinks on the flight tonight."

He took about three steps into the hall and called back to the kitchen. "Mom?"

"What, Auggie?"

"Before I go any farther, have you rearranged any furniture since I was here last?"

Amanda laughed. "No, I think you've got clear sailing. Oh, I washed the sweats in your top dresser drawer so you'd have something fresh and comfy to relax in."

"Thanks, Mom … you don't know how to stop taking care of any of us, do you?"

"Just want to make you feel welcome." She paused and added, "And to remind you this will always be your home."

"Uh huh."

Auggie lifted his suitcase onto the bench at the foot of his bed. Opening it, he decided to only hang his shirts and trousers, since a 41-hour visit did not require a full-scale unpacking. He smiled at the thought of freshly washed sweats and opened his top dresser drawer. Running his hands over the neatly folded shirt and pants, he thought about the force of nature that was Amanda Anderson. He realized that his friend, Annie, had many of the same traits, not the least of which is tenacity. Auggie wished Annie were with him on this trip, and he amused himself with thoughts of Annie and his mother occupying the same space.

A few hours ago, adrenaline surged though his veins giving Auggie extra energy and focus. Now, in familiar surroundings that only a few days ago he had resisted, Auggie began to relax and realize that not only was he hungry … he was happy to be there.

Auggie changed clothes and sat on the edge of his bed to change into athletic socks and sneakers. There was a gentle tap at the door.

"Auggie, is it ok if I come in?" his mother asked.

"Sure."

Amanda flipped on the light as she entered the room, stopping momentarily to enjoy the sight of her youngest son at home in his childhood room. Auggie smiled when he heard the light switch and looked up to where he'd heard his mother. "What's up, Mom?"

"It's going to be crazy around here tomorrow, and I want to steal a few quiet minutes alone with you. Do you mind?"

"Of course, not."

Amanda sat beside her son and patting his knee said, "I want you to know how much your coming home means to me – even though there was a close call on the plane. We love you, Auggie, and both your dad and I are proud of you."

Auggie put his hand over his mother's hand, squeezed it a little, and said, "I know."

"Here we go," Auggie thought.

"Auggie, I wish you'd reconsider coming back to the Chicago area. You know … settle down here. We miss you … I miss you. With your computer skills, you could start a new career here."

"Mom, it's not as easy as you think. Where I am, I have the latest adaptive technology. Not many companies can provide that for me."

"I'm being selfish," Amanda whispered.

"No, you're being a mom, and I understand how you would like to have us all close enough to come home for Sunday dinner. But that's not me. I don't need to remind you that my life took a major left turn, and I've managed to carve out a pretty comfortable niche for myself … and your support was a big part of getting me to this place in my life."

Amanda patted Auggie's back. "But I miss you."

"Mom … there's a lot more to it. In Washington … at the office … I'm not the poor Anderson boy who was blinded in Iraq. I'm the head of Technical Operations in the DPD at the CIA. I'm good at what I do. People rely on me for their safety. My bosses have given me an extraordinary opportunity, and I have friends and a social life."

"August Anderson, you've met someone special, haven't you?"

"I have a very special friend. We both have histories to work through, but I think in time it could develop into a real relationship."

Auggie stood up and did his best to look straight at his mother who was still sitting on the edge of the bed trying to absorb the conversation. "Hey, Mom, how about a little snack. I'm starving," he teased with his best dimpled smile.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for the comments and alerts. It's making my first fan fiction journey an enjoyable one. Auggie gets a wake-up call on Thanksgiving morning ... stay tuned.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's a transitional chapter that gives Annie and Auggie a few minutes to talk about what has happened. Don't. Own. Anything. Associated. With. Covert. Affairs.

Flight 642 - Chapter 10 - The Morning After

Auggie's phone chimed and vibrated on the bedside table. He groaned, reached toward the phone and croaked "Hello."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Soldier Boy."

"Aren't you a perky one today?"

"You know it!"

"Annie?"

"Yeah."

"What time is it?"

"Seven … I've been up since five chopping and slicing and ... Uh oh ... it's just six in Chicago, isn't it? Oh, well, I just couldn't wait any longer to talk to you to hear for myself that you're ok. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine, Annie." He felt his eye and cheek, which were still swollen, but not as bad as they could be. His mother had insisted on sending him to bed with an ice pack to keep on the eye last night. "I may be coming home with a black eye and a swollen cheek. And, I'm regretting not bringing my laptop and my Braille readout. I'd like to check out the news coverage."

"From what I've heard, The Company has managed to keep mentions of you off the air, but I'll bet you're going to become some sort of blind ninja urban legend to the passengers on that flight."

"I gotta tell you, Annie Walker, it felt really good to be part of a bad guy takedown."

"And just think," Annie teased, "You have a whole day and a half until you have to face Joan for The Talk."

"Auggie," Annie turned serious. "I was so frightened not knowing if your plane would get down safely. I realized how much I care for you and how remarkable a person you are."

Annie breathed deeply and waited for Auggie to say something … anything.

Auggie drew a deep breath thinking through how to respond, "Don't mess this up, Anderson," he thought to himself.

"Annie, I'm not remarkable. I just live my life the best way I can, and I try to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done. It sounds like we were both frightened last night and, Annie, it wasn't the first time I realized you're important to me, too."

There was a long silence before Annie asked, "Is this a conversation we need to continue when we're in the same room … or at the very least in the zip code?"

"I think it is," Auggie chuckled seductively.

"I'm going to pick you up at the airport tomorrow afternoon. Maybe we can talk then … and I want a hug."

"And after work we can grab a burger and a couple of beers at the tavern," Auggie suggested. "I think they're even having live music Friday night."

Their conversation settled into a comfortable banter until Amanda knocked on her son's door.

"Auggie."

"Yeah, Mom."

"Are you ready for some breakfast?" Amanda asked as she cracked open the door. Auggie's nostrils were assaulted by the aromas of bacon, homemade cinnamon rolls and coffee as the door opened.

"Annie, Mom just poked her head in to let me know breakfast is ready, so I'd better get going."

"Ok, but don't you take a cab or call the car service tomorrow. I'll be at the airport and waiting for my hug."

"You've got it, Slugger."

I know this is a really short chapter, but it is a special conversation between Annie and Auggie. I felt it needed to be separate from the interactions between Auggie and members of his family. In Chapter 11, Auggie gets reacquainted with Anderson family Thanksgiving traditions.


	11. Chapter 11

Well, here's Chapter 11. It's Thanksgiving morning at the Andersons and Auggie gets to enjoy breakfast with his family and some quality time with them. This chapter is dedicated to my favorite No. 11 quarterback who is unmerciful in taunting me to keep the posts coming.

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 11 - Traditions**

Thanksgiving tradition at the Andersons always included a hearty breakfast so the boys wouldn't be whining for something to eat before the main meal in the middle of the afternoon.

Auggie sat on the side of his bed and took a few minutes to get his bearings and visualize his childhood home before he started moving around. He splashed water on his face, and pulled on the comfortable sweats he'd worn last night. He picked up his folding cane, but had second thoughts, again. The furniture hadn't been rearranged, and he felt that using his cane made his family uncomfortable. Besides, he didn't need it to get around his apartment, so he shouldn't need it to move around his childhood home.

Going down the stairs, Auggie heard voices coming from the breakfast room in the back of the house. He followed the sound of the voices and the aroma of his mother's cinnamon rolls.

"You found us," Aaron teased.

"As long as I can follow the scent of Mom's rolls, I'll never get lost." Auggie joked.

Auggie stood in the doorway, visualizing the room the way he remembered it. His dad had grunted a good morning and immediately went back to reading the paper from what Auggie assumed was his usual place at the table. Auggie decided he'd head toward his childhood place at the table. After a couple of cautious steps, he felt his mother's hand gently touch his and without a fuss guide his hand to the bank of his chair.

"I'm guessing you'd like some coffee."

"You'd be correct."

Amanda poured a mug full of coffee and sat it in front of Auggie, who located the cup and began to enjoy its robust caffeinated warmth. Amanda took a plate off the stack on the island and started to fill it for Auggie.

"I'll start you off with a roll and about four slices of bacon, ok?"

"Thanks, Mom." Auggie couldn't wait to sink his teeth into a roll, but he hated being waited on. Amanda sat the plate on the table, leaned over Auggie's shoulder and whispered, "Roll is at 12 o'clock, and the bacon's at 6 o'clock." As Auggie nodded, Amanda squeezed his shoulder.

Auggie enjoyed his breakfast bantering with Aaron and quizzing his father about news reports on the plane incident. Cynthia hustled around the kitchen taking direction from Amanda remarkably well for someone who owned her own catering business. Aaron wandered off to check out ESPN and Fred excused himself to work on a pending case.

"I'm going to get in a couple of hours of work this morning before the rest of the troops land," Fred said giving Auggie a warm good morning pat on the back. "I'll be in my office."

Auggie polished off his breakfast and headed to the sink with his plate. Amanda intercepted him, grabbing the plate. "Mom, I'm perfectly capable of clearing my own dishes."

"Yes, but this kitchen is a hazard zone today."

He went back to the breakfast table to retrieve his coffee mug. "Will you allow me to at least pour myself another cup of coffee?"

Knowing when it was time to back off, Amanda answered, "The coffee maker is where it's always been."

Cynthia was rolling out pie crust on the other side of the kitchen and watching Auggie as he deftly but cautiously poured his coffee. Cynthia and Amanda caught each other's gaze. Cynthia had a wide-eyed look of concern, and Amanda smiled and shook her head … a silent message not to try to help.

"Auggie, why don't you sit at the island while I peel the potatoes? Keep me company while I cook … like old times," Amanda said casually.

Auggie couldn't help but smile from ear to ear remembering coming home from school his junior and senior years and sitting at the island while Amanda put the finishing touches on dinner. The one perk of being the youngest of five, he realized, was the opportunity to be an only child for a couple of years while everyone else was away at college and graduate school.

Auggie sipped his coffee and listened to his mother's stories about the grandchildren, his brothers' careers and, when Cynthia was out of earshot, a few juicy tidbits about Auggie's sisters-in-law.

Aside from almost being blown up at 30,000 feet, this trip home was not nearly as problematic as he had expected. Having consumed his morning's requirement of caffeine, Auggie slid off the bar stool, set the empty mug in the sink and announced in his best dramatic voice that he would take his leave to make himself presentable for the main show.

"Ok, Showoff, You do that," Amanda chuckled.

"What's the dress code for dinner? Should I do coat and tie?"

"You know how your dad feels about special holiday dinners."

"Coat and tie it is," Auggie said has he headed upstairs to shower.

On the way upstairs, Auggie realized how much he was enjoying being able to roam around the house without worrying about bumping into the elderly relatives and young children running circles through the rooms. At the top of the stairs, Auggie heard papers shuffling in his dad's office. He stopped at the office door, leaned against the door frame and asked, "How's it goin', Dad?"

"Not too bad. How about you? … Really, son, how about you?"

"Pretty good. Job's going ok. I've made some really good friends, and there are more good days than bad ones, now."

"Frederick looked up over his reading glasses. "Why don't you come in? The chair's in front of the desk like always."

Auggie edged toward the chair, felt its back and stepped around to sit down. "This brings back some memories. Some I'd like to forget," he chuckled remembering some of the disciplining talks he had received … no earned … in this room.

Fred smiled. "Raising you boys was an adventure … and with you in the mix, it's still an adventure being a parent."

"I wouldn't want you and Mom to get lulled into a false sense of security."

"For your mother's sake, would you please try to avoid another encounter with guns or explosives?"

"I'm doin' the best I can, Dad, but the stuff just seems to find me."

"I've noticed," Fred said. "But I do have a suggestion … or a request."

"What?"

"Do you think you could call your mother a little more often? She worries about you, and maybe she wouldn't obsess about it, if she just heard your voice more often."

"I understand … thanks, Dad," Auggie said as he stood up.

"And Auggie, you know that goes for me, too. It'd be good to hear from you for no reason occasionally."

"Yep."

Auggie showered, shaved and dressed, deciding to wear a shirt and tie with his best cashmere sweater rather than the jacket. He wanted to look relaxed and pulled together for the family who, he knew, would be watching every move he made and inspecting him from head to toe. With that thought, he pulled out his travel shoe shine kit and brushed his loafers to make sure they were clean and almost-military shiny.

He repacked his shoe shine kit and reached for the folded cane on the dresser corner. Again, he had second thoughts about taking it downstairs. "Not necessary today," he told himself and headed back downstairs.

As Auggie passed his dad's office, Frederick glanced up and smiled at the sight of his handsome, dressed up son. "Well, son, you clean up remarkably well," he teased.

Auggie laughed. With a "Thanks, Dad," he headed down the staircase. Rather than go hang out in the kitchen and get in the way of final preparations, (he remembered Anderson men are never allowed into the kitchen at least one hour before guests arrive) Auggie slipped into the living room. Quietly working, feeling his way around the room, he reacquainted himself with the furniture layout and the size and shapes of his mother's prized Tiffany lamps. Moving cautiously to avoid tripping over the ottoman in front of the leather wing back chair in the corner, he settled into his favorite chair in his favorite corner of the house.

He leaned back and relaxed into the chair, put up his feet and willed his mind to see the room that held so many memories for him. A smile spread across his face as the happy memories came to life in his mind's eye.

While Auggie was exploring the living room, Amanda had gone upstairs to freshen up and change before her guests arrived. She had slipped into dressy, but comfortable, flats with a stylish tunic and slacks. As she started to leave the master bedroom, Amanda picked up the little glass perfume bottle and dabbed the merest amount of Channel No. 5 behind her ears and on her wrists. Only then she felt completely dressed for the party.

Amanda padded down the stairs making no noise. At the bottom of the stairs, she stood in front of the door and surveyed her home from her guests' first step inside the door. The house was filled with the aromas of Thanksgiving, and it looked festive but not over decorated. "It's going to be a happy party," she thought to herself.

Before returning to the kitchen, Amanda stepped into the living room doorway to be sure the room was in order. She was taken aback by the sight of her youngest son settled into the corner chair looking as happy as she'd seen him since before he left for Iraq. Amanda had barely made a sound, but Auggie turned his head toward her, "Mom?"

"I didn't want to disturb you. What gave me away?"

"Your Channel No. 5. You always wear it on special occasions."

"What are you doing in here by yourself? Aaron's in the family room watching ESPN. You always seem to enjoy that."

"Getting reacquainted with the lay of the land, so to speak, and remembering … Hummm … visualizing."

Tears welled up in Amanda's eyes and barely dripped from the outer corners … something she rarely allowed, especially when Auggie was close enough to hear a sniffle. Walking toward Auggie, she asked, "Well, how does it look?"

"Pretty darn good," Auggie said through a wistful smile.

Amanda sat on the arm of the chair facing Auggie. "Well, the room hasn't changed much over the years. It just about the same as before ….," she trailed off and couldn't quite finish the sentence.

Calming herself with a deep breath, Amanda placed her right hand on his left shoulder and cupped his dimpled check in her left hand. He tilted his head up to her face intending to smile and say something witty, but realized he had an enormous lump in his throat. He had not been this close to tears since he returned to the States from Iraq.

Neither mother nor son could find the right words.

Amanda took another deep breath. She kissed Auggie's forehead, and squeezed his shoulder as she stood up. The door bell chimed. As Amanda went to answer the door, she called back to Auggie, "So the fun begins!"

* * *

Chapter 12 will take Auggie back to Langley where he'll get debriefed and reunited with Annie. Thanks for the kind words and alerts. A journey is always more enjoyable with company.


	12. Chapter 12

Auggie is headed back to Langley to face Joan and give Annie the hug that she's waiting for. Covert Affairs rocks, but unfortunately I have no part of it. Note to No. 11: because the original Chapter 12 was shorter than usual, you guilted me into combining it with the next chapter for this part of the story. I have to admit it works much better. Hope everyone enjoys return to Langley.

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 12 - Back to Langley**

Driving to O'Hare Airport on Friday, Amanda and Auggie chatted about the family dinner and analyzed some of the family news. They both laughed about the family's lack of interest in news reports about the attempted terrorist attack on the plane. Amanda worried the country is paying enough attention to terrorist threats. Auggie reminded her that even if the public isn't paying attention, there are lots of people like him in government agencies working 24/7 on the problem.

"I just wish you'd learn to stay out of the line of fire, rather than trying to figure out how to get in the middle of things," Amanda thought out loud.

"I'll keep that in mind, but I want to remind you … and I'm not teasing here … I am highly trained and I can take care of myself."

"Sure you don't want me to dab some makeup on that bruised cheek and eye?" Amanda asked as she whipped her car into a newly vacant parking space at the terminal entrance.

"Mom … honestly … a blind guy with a bruise. No one will pay any attention to me," Auggie teased. Touching the slight swelling on his cheek and eyelid, he secretly wondered just how bad the bruise was.

Amanda spotted the travel aide scanning the crowd. "I think I see your travel assistant," she said as she stepped out of the car.

Auggie got out of the car and retrieved his bag from the back seat while Amanda walked over to make sure the middle aged woman would be the person assisting Auggie.

"Auggie, this is Jeanne, and she's going to help you get checked in."

Amanda hated rushed airport goodbyes. She patted Auggie's arm and muttered the standard, "You take care of yourself."

Auggie nodded and embraced her in a tight hug. "Mom, I'll do the best I can."

"Maybe we'll get to see each other over Christmas."

"Maybe," Auggie smiled as he took the travel assistant's arm, picked up the bag and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

As Annie worked at her computer Friday morning, she couldn't take her eyes off the time in the corner counting down until she should leave for the airport to meet Auggie.

In Chicago, Auggie made his way through security and was headed with his travel aide to the gate when his phone chimed. "Do you mind if we stop a second, so I can take this call?"

"Let's step out of traffic then," she huffed.

"Hey, Slugger, what's up?"

"Wondering how you're doing."

"Headed to the gate. Can I call you back?"

"Do you think you'll be on schedule?"

"Annie, I'll call you back."

"Ok," she finally agreed a little sadly. Annie hadn't talked with Auggie for more than 24 hours, and she wanted … no, needed … to hear his voice.

* * *

Auggie thanked his assistant for her help and settled into a seat in the waiting area close to the agents' counter. He listened carefully to the people in the area, and judging by the noise level the immediate area was fairly empty. He pulled his phone out and pressed the speed dial code for Annie.

Annie's phone vibrated on her desk under the computer monitor. Looking down at the miniature screen, she smiled, but waited a couple of seconds before she answered. "Hey, Soldier Boy! How goes it?"

"At the gate. Waiting to board. Looks like it should be an uneventful, on-time flight."

Relieved that Auggie had called her back when most of the DPD staff was away from their desks, Annie admitted, "I am missing you so much, I can hardly stand it until you're back in DC."

"I miss you, too.'

"Since Joan wants to talk to you as soon as possible, I have a really good reason for picking you up. But I think Joan's figured out my motives."

Not knowing who might hear him, Auggie whispered, "You're a star at manipulation … they trained you well."

Annie laughed, "Har, Har … that's the pot calling the kettle black. You, Anderson, know me only too well. Besides, you've helped train me."

"Hey," Annie continued, "I checked the passenger list for your flight, and it looks clean. You shouldn't have to pull any of your ninja tricks on the way home."

"Good. Maybe I can relax with my tunes on the way back."

After a moment's pause, Auggie added, "I think you ought to know I have a bruised cheek and a swollen eye from the other night. I don't want you to freak out when you see me."

"I'll try not to scream," Annie teased, hiding her concern.

"Bye … and don't forget we're stopping at the tavern on the way home tonight, unless I look too rough to be seen with in public."

"It doesn't matter. The light's not too good at the tavern anyway. No one will notice."

* * *

Annie finished her first round of research on the organizations that the Thanksgiving Terrorist Trio were associated with and dropped the file at Joan's office on her way to the airport. Joan looked up, smiled and then said sternly, "Don't you two forget to come back to the office. The Seventh Floor wants Auggie debriefed this afternoon." Annie nodded.

Annie hurried to her car. She realized her heart was racing, but attributed it to running through the parking lot. But, twenty minutes later driving to the airport, her heart was racing faster and she actually felt her pulse all through her body.

"Deep breaths, calm down, you're acting like a school girl," she scolded herself. But the anticipation of being able to wrap her arms around Auggie excited her beyond her wildest imagination … or his for that matter.

Annie glanced at the clock on her dashboard. She was making good time in traffic and should pull into short-term parking about ten minutes before Auggie's flight was scheduled to arrive. For all of Auggie's self confidence and outward relaxed attitude, Annie knew that he was least comfortable in large, open, noisy public areas. Annie wished she could go to the gate to meet him, but she'd have to settle for hovering just outside the security area.

Hurrying to the security area where Auggie would exit the concourse, Annie checked the monitors and noticed his flight was not yet listed as arrived. She slowed her pace and staked out a place with a clear view of the concourse to wait. Annie's phone buzzed. Auggie reported the plane was at the gate, and his "guide" would assist him off the plane after the other passengers had deplaned.

Sensing more than a little irritation in his voice, Annie called him out on it. "What's with the attitude, Soldier Boy?"

"Sorry … don't like this dependence thing. It slows me down and frustrates me. Like the good ole boys in my old unit used to say … it's kinda like tryin' to teach a pig to sing. It's a waste of time, and besides it just irritates the pig."

"Hang in there," Annie teased. "You'll be back to your boring, independent life in less than half an hour I'm guessing. If you really want independence, I'll let you drive back to the office."

"Touché," Auggie chuckled. Annie's teasing and smart come backs helped keep him grounded and his challenges in perspective.

Auggie drummed his fingers on the armrest while he waited. The plane now was quiet except for the sounds of luggage being off loaded from the cargo hold. Then, he heard purposeful steps entering the first class cabin and coming down the aisle. "Mr. Anderson, are you ready?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Auggie answered in the most charming, relaxed tone he could muster. If he were able to see … even had a tiny bit of sight left … he would have been bounding down the concourse to meet Annie. But then, if the circumstances were different, he probably would not even have met Annie. He shook off the thoughts, pulled his suitcase out of the storage bin and placing his hand on the guide's shoulder followed her off the plane.

When they reached the jet way, Auggie stopped to pull up the handle of the suitcase and check to be sure his cane was still in the outside pocket. "OK, ready," he said.

As he took the guide's elbow, she inquired about his flight and Auggie asked whether or not she'd had to work on the holiday. They chatted comfortably as they made their way through the concourse. Auggie was grateful that she was walking at a brisk pace.

"I can see the security gate," the guide reported. "Should I be looking for someone for you?"

"I think she'll spot us," Auggie said with a smile.

Annie had edged close to the side of security where arriving passengers passed through to leave the concourse. There was a rush of people … then a few stragglers. Standing on her tip toes to get a better view of the concourse, Annie spotted the top of Auggie's unruly, dark brown curly hair. Annie couldn't keep from smiling and almost started to wave frantically until she realized how ridiculous that would be.

As they exited the concourse, Annie kept her composure and rather than screaming "Auggie" the way she wanted, she hurried to him saying just loud enough to announce she was approaching, "Auggie Anderson! I'm so glad you're back."

Annie and the guide smiled at each other. Auggie stopped and thanked her for her help as Annie reached for his left hand to let him know where she was standing. When he felt her fingers brush against his, he grabbed her hand and squeezed a silent but grateful, happy greeting. Annie wrapped her arms around his left arm and reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad to see you, too." Auggie said has he untangled his arm and wrapped it around Annie's waist pulling her close to him before he took her elbow, which was a signal they should get moving.

"I'm in short-term parking, so we have a little bit of a hike."

When they got to the car, Annie opened the back hatch and Auggie lifted the suitcase into the car. Standing under the raised rear door, they paused facing each other. Annie put her hands on his arms to let him know where she was. Auggie wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Annie hugged back and started to sob.

"I'm so thankful you're back safe. I've never been as frightened as I was Wednesday night. I don't know what I would have done if the worst had happened … and the only thing I would have had to remember you by was a star on the wall."

"Well, we stopped them, didn't we?"

"Uh huh," she sniffed.

Auggie kissed her head and realized he'd come dangerously close to tearing up, too. "Ok, Secret Agent Annie Walker, I think we need to get back to Langley."

Annie had composed herself by the time she pulled into a parking space at the CIA campus. During the ride, Auggie recounted some of the funny stories from his family's Thanksgiving dinner, and how much he loved his mom's cinnamon rolls.

"I'm glad you enjoyed being with your family."

"Enjoy? Well, I wouldn't go quite that far," Auggie huffed … then laughed. "It really turned out ok, and I realized spending some time with my folks isn't necessarily a bad thing."

* * *

Annie and Auggie met Joan and some of the Seventh Floor contingent in the DPD Conference Room. Joan was at her usual place at the head of the table, and two empty seats were at her left. As Annie and Auggie entered the room, Joan motioned to Annie that they should take the two seats next to her.

"Welcome back, Auggie," Joan said as they approached the empty chairs.

Everyone introduced themselves around the table, more as a courtesy to Auggie so he would know who was in the room and to give him a reference for where they were sitting. Auggie nodded when Air Marshal Jim Wilson, who was seated next to him, introduced himself.

"All right then," Joan said, "I guess what we're all interested in, Auggie, is what tipped you off about the terrorists?"

Auggie closed his eyes and scrunched his face in thought for a few seconds, feeling all the eyes in the room on him. "Hummmm … Well, first off, The Company and the Army trained me to be observant and always be aware of my environment. I can't turn that off, even though I'm blind, now."

"I used to be a people watcher, and now I've turned into a people listener," Auggie chuckled trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

Auggie explained how he overheard their conversation and something seemed off. "The more I listened and thought about it, the more uncomfortable I felt. Annie was still in the office and was willing to do the research that made her realize there really could be a threat." The debriefing session lasted more than an hour and a half with both Auggie and Annie being questioned in minute detail.

"Anderson, I wish all of our officers had observation skills as keen as yours," said one of the Seventh Floor voices when the debriefing was drawing to a close.

"Thank you, sir. You trained me," Auggie answered. Then he asked, "Does this mean I might have more chances to get out in the field again?" A wide grin spread across his face while Joan and Annie shuddered.

"You understand we never want to put you in unnecessary danger, Auggie," Joan interjected. "But if a situation is right for your skills, we won't automatically count you out. How's that?"

"That seems fair," Auggie smiled again. "At least I might have a chance to be useful again."

The DNI seated opposite of Joan said, "Son, I don't think you understand how important you are to this agency. Don't ever underestimate your contribution to what we do, just because we're hesitant to send you out in the field regularly. We can't afford to lose you, your talent or your knowledge."

Auggie nodded to the DNI. "I understand, Sir."

"Thank you, Auggie," Joan said. Auggie and Annie took that as their cue to leave.

Walking back to their offices, Auggie turned to Annie and said, "That went better than I expected, and no one commented on my bruises."

"Don't get too cocky," Annie said. "They all were giving you a good once over in there. You don't look too bad, though. Maybe like you misjudged a doorway and caught it with your cheek."

Auggie made a face, and Annie decided to be quiet.

When they got to Auggie's office, Annie reminded him, "Didn't you promise me a veggie burger and some jazz tonight?"

* * *

Annie won't let Auggie forget about their "date" at the tavern. Wonder how that will turn out. Join Annie, Auggie and me for Chapter 13 and some "bottles and burgers" at the tavern.


	13. Chapter 13

Well, here it is: The final chapter to Flight 642. I hope you've enjoyed the trip as much as I have. Auggie and Annie finally get a few minutes alone. As I've pointed out before in this story, I have absolutely no association with Covert Affairs. Oh, and good luck to Piper Perabo at the Golden Globes!

* * *

**Flight 642 - Chapter 13 - Friday Night at the Tavern**

Musicians were setting up in a rearranged corner when Annie and Auggie arrived at the tavern. They snaked their way through the tables that had been pushed closer together to make room for the live band and a small area for dancing.

"This is almost where we usually sit," Annie said, "But your path to the men's room is totally gone." Annie whispered.

Auggie chuckled, "Ok, I'll go easy on the beer tonight."

"That's no fun. We'll figure something out," Annie said as Auggie found the back of her chair and pulled it out for her to slide in. "Why, thank you," she said looking up and smiling.

"Your welcome, Ms. Walker."

The usual Friday night crowd started to filter in calling out greetings to Auggie and Annie, who were munching on their burgers and sweet potato fries. Auggie took a swig of his beer and asked, "Just how good can a bleu cheese _veggie_ burger be?"

"It's very tasty, thank you," Annie laughed with a faux clink toast. "I just faux clinked you."

"I suspected."

They laughed. But then Annie turned serious and wrapped her hand around Auggie's wrist and gave it a light squeeze. "I feel so lucky to be here with you tonight," she said.

"Me, too, Annie," Auggie said patting her hand.

They finished off their supper and first round in contented silence as the jazz group started its set with a mix of Charles Mingus and Louis Armstrong style songs. Auggie picked up his almost-empty beer bottle and called out "Annie!" to make sure he had her attention over the music and crowd noise.

"What?" she said turning to face him.

Auggie was holding up his beer bottle in a toast. "Oh," Annie said picking up her bottle, and Auggie toasted, "To successful missions both planned and unplanned." Annie clinked Auggie's bottle and they took final satisfying swigs of the brew.

"Annie, will you get the waitress' attention? I think we need another round."

Just as the beer arrived, Jai sauntered up to their table. "Hi, may I join you? This place is hoppin' tonight."

"Sure," they said in unison.

Jai turned to the waitress and pointing to Auggie's beer said, "I'd like one of those." Sitting down, he commented cryptically, "Well, so much for quiet holidays."

Annie and Auggie nodded in agreement.

"How are you two doing?"

"Fine," they answered in unison again.

The band started a new song, and after the first few notes, a broad grin spread over Auggie's face. Annie and Jai glanced at each other with a quizzical look and shrugged. They didn't have a clue why he'd be so pleased about a song neither of them recognized.

"Annie?" Auggie called out as he held out his hand palm up. Annie reached for his hand and gently caressed it. "Annie, may I have this dance?"

"Well … yes … I guess so," she answered in a puzzled tone. Auggie had never expressed any interest in dancing. They stood up and Auggie moved his hand up Annie's arm to her elbow and they made their way to the small dance floor. From the soft intro, the trumpet entered sounding almost sad. By the time they reached the dance floor, the keyboard picked up the melody. They held each other close for a few seconds, swaying, getting a feeling for each other and the music.

They started dancing as the singer began:

_When we are dancing and you're dangerously near me  
__I get ideas, I get ideas  
__I want to hold you  
__So much closer than I dare do  
__I want to scold you  
_'_Cause I care more than I care to._

Annie pulled her head back. She was going to say something to Auggie, but couldn't catch her breath to speak when she saw his self-satisfied expression and smile.

_And when you touch me  
__And there's fire in every finger  
__I get ideas, yes I get ideas.  
__And after we have kissed good night and still you linger  
__I kinda think you get ideas, too._

The music contined playing and Auggie whispered in Annie's ear, "Is there room to twirl you?"

"Twirl? Uhh, I guess so."

He took a step back, keeping a firm hold on her hand and twirled her around in time to the music then pulled her back into his arms.

"Auggie! You're always finding ways to surprise me."

His smile couldn't have shown more happiness.

_Your eyes are always saying  
__The things you're never saying  
__Only hope they're saying that you could love me too  
__For that's the whole idea, it's true, the lovely idea  
__That I'm falling in love with you._

The music continued and they danced without saying another thing. Annie nestled her head closer into Auggie's shoulder and they squeezed each other's hands tighter on his chest.

The singer ended with:

_And after we have kissed good night  
__And still you linger  
__I kinda think you get ideas, too._

The song ended, and Annie took a deep breath to soak up the emotions and seal the moment in her memory forever.

Jai watched them returning to the table and realized he'd never be anything more than Annie's friend. He felt a little sad for himself, but happy for Auggie, the lucky son of a gun. He deserved to have someone care for him the way Annie obviously does.

When they returned to the table, Jai excused himself, smiling at Annie who sheepishly returned the smile. Jai gave Auggie a gentle slap on the shoulder as he picked up his coat and said, "Good night, see you Monday."

Auggie found Annie's hand and held it tightly … the only thing he could do in such a public place, since he couldn't look deeply into her glistening hazel eyes. His heart skipped a beat when she squeezed his hand and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"When and where are we going to continue this discussion?" Annie whispered. "Your place or mine?"

"Your choice."

"How about tonight? Your place. More privacy without the guest house thing."

Auggie nodded and stood. He slipped into his overcoat and took Annie's left arm as they made their way out of the tavern. Annie reached over with her right hand to give Auggie an affectionate pat. He smiled and squeezed her elbow.

Stepping out into the cold night air, they made their way to Annie's car. Auggie insisted on opening Annie's door for her, "because that's what a gentleman does for a lady." Annie stopped. She looked up at Auggie, raised herself up on her toes and whispered in his ear, "I like the way we're able communicate without saying anything."

"Me too."

Annie slid in behind the wheel and Auggie closed the door for her. He then made his way around the car and climbed into the passenger seat. They were quiet as they buckled their seatbelts and Annie started the car.

As Annie edged the car out of its parking space, Auggie took a deep, silent breath before continuing, "We do need to talk."

"Or not," Annie giggled, as she pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

What happened in Auggie's lovely apartment the rest of Thanksgiving weekend is up to _your_ imagination.

I have enjoyed taking this creative journey with you and appreciate the suggestions, comments and alerts. When I began posting, I had no idea how much fun I would have … and how much fun it was going to be to have some of my friends join me on the journey.

I have one confession. The whole story began with the scene of Auggie and Annie dancing to "I Get Ideas" in the tavern. I was listening to Louis Armstrong this fall and rediscovered "I Get Ideas." Every time I heard it, I could see Annie and Auggie dancing. I just had to come up with the story to get them there.

If you are not familiar with the song, you can hear it on YouTube. Search for it and Louis Armstrong. Enjoy. It's also available on iTunes for download.


End file.
